


Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna

by duriel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Fourth Year, Multi, divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 104,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duriel/pseuds/duriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter elects to take a bit of pride in himself, and in so doing changes the way he views others, and they view him. Fourth Year divergence story. HP/HG/FD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter One

AN: This story is a divergence in Harry Potter's fourth year at Hogwarts, with only a few small changes to canon prior to the start of the story. If you feel that I have unintentionally forgotten some point, please let me know.

This story will be Harry Potter / Hermione Granger / Fleur Delacour. I do not think of myself as "bashing" any character in particular, but opinions may vary. I only hope that you enjoy reading it, as I am most assuredly enjoying the writing of it.

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**"It requires a penetrating eye to discern a fool through the disguise of gaiety and good breeding." - Fielding**

It was a bad day of Divination, by any standard Harry Potter chose to employ. The trouble had really begun at breakfast when Ron, Hermione, and Harry had overheard Lee Jordan in hushed conversation with the Weasley twins. They had been advising their sometime pranking partner that the gold owed to them by Ludo Bagman, paid out under duress, had disappeared not long after the debacle at the close of the Quidditch World Cup. In the wake of this revelation, Harry was too busy keeping Hermione from making further remonstrations about irresponsible gambling to notice the darkening of Ron's expression.

Lunch was worse. On the way to class, Harry could still hear Hermione's irritated voice ringing in his ears about his foolish decision to abandon any pretense of trying in Divination. Walking behind him, Ron remained silent.

Matters did not improve when Trelawney chose to zero in on Harry's tragic past and its undeniable course toward an ever-more-tragic future. This made him irritated on a good day; Hermione's rather bitter tirade made the class seem all the more useless and empty. Harry felt Ron's gaze on his scar, along with the rest of the class's attention, and did his best not to try to cover it up with his hand. While the teacher continued to speak, the sense of frustration and irritation gave way to a new feeling: shame. Shame that he was here, wasting his time, being exhibited like some bizarre idol, some totem of fate's mystery, some circus freak.

_Exactly_ , Harry reflected bitterly. _Like a freak_.

Why was he spending his time in Hogwarts, the one reliable refuge from his cursed muggle relations, in the company of a so-called teacher who treated him with practically the same callous disregard they did? There had to be something more useful and less embarrassing that he could do with his time. He did his best to think over the options and ignore the class for the rest of the afternoon.

Muggle studies? Hermione's review was hardly positive. Arithmancy? It was the hardest subject by reputation, and Harry did not have much interest in magical theory in any case. Runes?

He considered the last one thoughtfully. He knew the subject involved a great deal of grammar and translation work from watching the torrent of homework his friend endured in third year.  Hermione had mentioned (quite enthusiastically) how important runes were in the regular operation of the magical world. He even recalled her pointing some of them out on his broomstick last year, noting in some abstruse way that they worked to complement the charms in place for tension and rigidity. Harry hardly expected to become a broom craftsman, but he was very interested in something with an application he could grasp. There were other uses Hermione had mentioned in passing as well, though Ron frequently overrode her in a quest to play chess or otherwise ignore his homework.

Harry frowned as class ended. Thinking things over logically, he knew that Ron was not going to be pleased if he approached McGonagall for a schedule switch. He assumed it could be done, both because McGonagall loathed Trelawny and because it was very early in the year. Sighing, he gathered his books and turned to Ron. This was not going to be a pleasant confrontation.

As they left the tower and their classmates thinned out in the hallway, Harry was about to break the silence, but Ron beat him to it.

"Why didn't you tell me that the gold I gave you disappeared?" Harry stopped and looked at his friend. Ron was frowning.

He waited a moment as the hallway cleared before responding. "What gold, Ron?"

Ron's frown intensified. "For the omnioculars, at the World Cup. You heard them at breakfast. Leprechaun gold, mate!" He seemed really worked up now.

"Ah," Harry thought for a moment, taken aback by Ron's visible emotion. "Well, I didn't really notice."

"Didn't notice?" Ron sounded incredulous. "What do you mean you didn't notice! You know how expensive that thing was!"

"Look Ron," Harry said, beginning to get a little irritated himself, "I didn't notice, all right? Don't worry about the gold. Who cares anyway, I was more worried about my wand. Look, I -"

But Ron cut him off and began walking away as he called out bitterly, "Must be nice to have so much money you just don't even notice!"

"Ron, wait!" Harry reached out and grabbed his friend's shoulder, intending to mollify him, but Ron shook him off and turned, scowling.

"I hate being poor. I hate watching those girls in class stare at you all day!" His face was red as he glared. "And you don't even notice! You didn't even look at them this afternoon!"

It was quick, but Harry caught him glance up at the scar. Suddenly all the shame and embarrassment that he had been feeling in class returned, breaking entirely the calm he had managed while deliberating over his future coursework. He took a step forward and glared at Ron, his voice cold. "If that's what you think, then go ahead and hate it. I'm done Ron. Get out of my way."

He stepped past the still angry boy and walked off down the hall toward the office of his head of house. Ron could rot in Trelawney's class for all he cared. He was never going back there.

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Harry took a deep breath as he stood before Minerva McGonagall's doorway. He needed to be calm to present his case to her; McGonagall would react better, he knew, to a reasoned argument than an angry tirade. His own experience of her over the last three years made that completely clear.

This was a big step he was taking. Ron was angry, and would be angrier still once he found out. Harry had found in the past that Ron's anger was rather slow to cool. He had no idea how Hermione would take it, but he hoped she would stick with him. He shook his head to clear it and waited another moment, then summoned his resolve and knocked on the door.

"Come in." He heard the crisp voice behind the door and opened it, swiftly closing it behind him before speaking.

"Professor McGonagall," he greeted her as courteously as he could, but his voice was still a little nervous.

"Yes Mr. Potter," Minerva McGonagall said as she looked up from the papers on her desk. "What can I do for you?"

Harry swallowed before speaking. “Professor,” he began hesitantly, “I am not satisfied with the work I am doing this year."

At this, McGonagall put down her quill and stared intently. "Could you elaborate, Mr. Potter?"

He felt unaccountably better now that he had her complete attention, and drove directly into the matter. "I feel that my Divination class is not a productive use of my time. I would, well, respectfully request that I be allowed to take a different course."

McGonagall watched him for a moment with an even expression before replying. "You realize that you would be placed in a third year class, whatever you elect to take, correct?" He nodded in reply, and she paused a moment before continuing. "What would you be interested in taking, Mr. Potter?”

"Ancient Runes, ma'am. I rather like the practical sense of it from what Hermione has told me."

"Ah," she said, leaning back a bit, "then Miss Granger has prevailed upon you to make this decision?"

Harry straightened a bit before looking right into her eyes. "No ma'am, I decided it on my own. I haven’t asked or told anyone yet."

To say that McGonagall was surprised would be an understatement, but to say that she was pleased would be just as much one. She smiled at Harry, who immediately felt a release of tension. "An excellent idea, Mr. Potter. Excellent. It will be quite difficult, but if this is your own choice then I am sure you will do well." She looked a bit sardonic as she said, "Your tenacity is one of your better qualities."

He grinned a bit and then spoke, "Professor, what do I need to do?"

"I will handle your resignation with Professor Trelawney, Mr. Potter. I will also speak to Professor Babbling regarding your new placement. We will try to fit it into the same time as your previous class. I will let you know at dinner." She smiled again. "Now, off you go. Please make sure to borrow or acquire a textbook; the text is listed in the library. Thank you for the visit, Mr. Potter, and good luck."

"Thank you, Professor." Harry smiled and exited the office. His pleasure at changing classes and taking Trelawney out of his life had cast Ron's anger from his mind. If Ron Weasley wanted to be angry, then Harry was going to wait for an apology. He was in no hurry to receive one.

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At dinner that evening, Harry was extremely excited. Hermione glanced questioningly at him, but was rather distracted by Ron's glowering as he sat at the other end of the table.

"Harry, what happened?" Her voice was full of concern, wondering what might have driven her friends to these two quite opposite frames of mind.

Harry's smile fell a little as he turned to reply. "Ron and I got into an argument. Trelawney was all over my 'dark fate' in class today, and Ron got jealous over the attention everyone was paying me." Now he frowned a little. "Staring at my scar, the lot of them. Anyway, he was mad that I didn't care about his leprechaun gold disappearing, the stuff he paid me with at the World Cup for the omnioculars. Prat." He turned toward his plate.

Hermione glanced down at Ron, who was looking pointedly away. "Harry, I'm sorry. I know you hate that fraud's class, and I know you hate the attention. But you know how Ron is. He's, well..." Her voice trailed off as Harry stared at her.

"He's what, Hermione?" His earlier good mood was evaporating. "Petty? Jealous? Whiny? He was all of that earlier. I have no plans to ask for his forgiveness." He turned away and picked at his dinner in frustration.

Hermione meanwhile was a little taken aback at Harry's anger. Whatever her two friends had said to one another, she knew Ron must have really botched it this time. This was no surprise to her, naturally; it was hardly the first time that this had happened. Harry was usually very accommodating when it came to second-youngest Weasley. She wondered about their class that day. "Harry, did something else happen in Divination today?"

Before he could frame a reply, they were silenced by McGonagall striding up to the table and stopping at Harry. "Mr. Potter," she said crisply, but with a hint of a smile, "Your course information is here. It will be a mixed Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class. Good luck."

Harry thanked the professor as she handed over the class schedule, which Harry immediately began reading as soon as she walked away. No one else at the table was particularly interested, but Hermione squirmed while she waited for Harry to tell her what was going on. Finally she could stand it no longer and leaned over. "Harry, what was that about exactly?"

He turned to her and grinned, and for a moment she almost forgot entirely what she was asking about as he touched her arm and gently guided her up from the table. "Done? Good, let's go talk about it." They received a few stares as they left the hall, but Hermione did not notice.

As they walked, Harry handed over the paper he had received. Hermione reviewed it and commented immediately, "Harry, this is just your class schedule. What could..." Her voice trailed off and she stopped walking entirely. A moment later she stared at him, incredulous, as he stood watching her and grinning.

"You dropped Divination," she said, sounding rather as though he had crossed over recently from the afterlife. "You've signed up for Runes." She looked up, wide-eyed and amazed. "Harry, I don't know what to say."

Harry was meanwhile thoroughly enjoying his best friend's reaction, an even better one than he had hoped for. "Well Hermione, I was hoping you could offer me your old textbook and maybe some help reviewing, since I'm already behind."

Hermione smiled then, a bright, sunny, genuine smile. It made Harry feel more than a little bit better about the Ron situation. "Harry, of course. I'm so proud of you, dropping that nonsense and trying something new. Let's go straight to the library and I'll get you started. I think you'll really enjoy it!" She took his hand and began walking.

Harry, for his part, did not resist. Hermione had not even mentioned the possibility of Ron taking the course.

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The rest of the week went very well for Harry. All of Gryffindor had noticed that Ron was pointedly ignoring Harry and, by extension, Hermione, but largely chose not to comment on the matter. Ron spent his time with Dean and Seamus for the most part, while Harry was usually to be found in the library playing catch-up for Runes. Hermione had graciously lent him a magically duplicated set of her class notes after a very strict warning that they were not an excuse to slack off.

Much to her surprise, though, he did not slack off. With no Ron or Quidditch to distract him and a general desire to not make a spectacle of himself, Harry studied a great deal. As he did, he began to discover that the feeling of pleasure he had felt in electing all on his own to leave Divination was not an isolated event. He worked hard at Transfiguration and Runes especially, and felt a glimmer of a feeling so foreign to him that he did not have a name for it.

Harry Potter was beginning to feel a sense of pride in himself.

It was not the arrogance that Snape so frequently accused him of, but rather a sense of self-confidence. It felt good to take responsibility for himself in this way. Hermione's praise at his work so far in Runes, McGonagall's remarks on his improved class performance, even the sensation of laying down his quill to see work done on the desk before him were all becoming very valuable. He found himself less concerned about Snape's derogatory remarks, and the less attention he paid them, the less they stung.

The little things that were distracting him before seemed to become less fearsome, too. A little focus on homework went a long way toward making him not worry about girls, Ron's continued bad attitude, and the added concerns of Sirius and his mysterious dream over the summer.

It was with this newly positive attitude that Harry approached double Defense Against the Dark Arts on Thursday, gearing himself up for another less than comfortable lesson in Unforgivables, wondering whether Moody planned to offer something even more creepy than killing enlarged spiders with illegal spells. Ron huffed and moved to sit as far from Harry and Hermione as possible, while Hermione did her best to ignore him. Harry was doing quite a good job of ignoring him as well when their professor entered and announced the day's lesson plan.

Shocked silence greeted Mad-Eye Moody's declaration that he would be putting the class under the _Imperious_ curse.

"But — but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said — to use it against another human was —"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely — fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

Invoking both Dumbledore and what amounted to expulsion from class proved to be too much, and Hermione bowed to Moody's will. Harry watched with growing alarm as his classmates were made to do all manner of ridiculous things under the grim stare of Alastor Moody.   Singing, dancing, and absurd animal imitations formed a disturbing sequence of hypnotic control.  After Neville's compulsory gymnastic performance, Moody called Harry to the fore.

"Potter, you're up," he growled.

Harry tried to calm himself but was caught short by Moody's " _Imperio!_ "

He felt a strange sensation, as though he were only gently tethered to his body. A voice was telling him to jump, and he could feel his knees start to bend and his muscles tighten.

_Why, though?_ He felt himself beginning to argue with the voice, focusing more on his body. The voice came again, stronger this time, ordering him to jump. Still he stood there, trembling.

_WHY?_ He shouted in his mind. _Why should I?_

Again the command, louder and angry, telling him to jump.

He trembled, and felt himself sweating. Suddenly it occurred to Harry that he was feeling much closer to his body than he had originally. He felt himself stumble, and finally fall to the ground as his legs collapsed beneath him.

"NO!" He shouted. As he lay there, gasping, he felt the voice and sensation leave him. When he finally had the presence of mind to stand again and look around, he saw everyone, Moody included, staring at him with an expression of incredulity.

"That, that was excellent work, Potter. Excellent!" Moody's voice grew a little more forceful as he spoke. "Nice fight! They'll have a tough time controlling you!"

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Harry was drained after class. In the end, no one had been able to throw off the curse apart from him, and Moody had forced him to repeat the task four times before he was satisfied. As such, he was particularly disinclined to hear Malfoy begin to insult him for showing off. 

He was even less excited to hear Ron agreeing with him.

"Way to go, Potter. Good to see you playing the mudblood's role as teacher's pet for a while. Wanted a change from failing all the time?" Harry stopped and looked at Draco in the eyes, noting, he thought, a little hint of fear in the bravado. Before he could pursue it, though, he heard another voice behind him.

"Yeah, way to show off, Potter. Always bloody happy to be the center of attention, aren't you?"

Hermione and Harry both turned, surprised at Ron's invective. Malfoy, for his part, looked just as surprised as they did, but quickly capitalized on Harry's distraction.

"See Potter? Is there anyone who doesn't hate you? Professor Snape's right about you. Wonder how long even the mudblood is going to stick around." At that, Draco laughed and departed. Harry was too taken aback to reply.

_Is there anyone who doesn't hate you?_

Harry stood stunned and wide-eyed as a red-faced Ron pushed by him down the hall, followed by the rest of the class at a slower pace. Hermione remained by his side, glaring daggers at Ron's back.

_Is there anyone who doesn't hate you?_

It was a question he had asked himself before. All the time, in fact. Every day. Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley and his cronies, Marge, teachers, administrators - everyone hated him. Every single person who had known him, for virtually his entire life, had hated him. Even Ron hated him now.

What if Draco was right?

Hermione asked him if he was all right. The brief moment of real fear in his eyes terrified her before he finally responded that he would be fine.

When he managed a little smile, she took his hand and squeezed it, and walked down the hall with him.

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Harry's newly gathered self-esteem took another beating in double Potions the next day. It was fortunate he was really too withdrawn to defend himself, as Snape could only do so much damage with no real interaction from him.

That weekend saw a new low in some ways for Harry. Ron had managed to parlay Harry's "eerie" behavior in Defense into a sort of general disquiet among the Gryffindors and a large number of other students. This worked rather better than Ron might have hoped since the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were seeing a Slytherin and a Gryffindor in fairly solid agreement. It was only too easy for people to recall that Harry was a parselmouth, and the fear of two terms previous, and that he was, after all, Harry Potter.

For the first time in his tenure at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy seemed to be succeeding in a very conventional Slytherin manner: Harry Potter was made the outsider.

Consequently Harry spent a good deal of time in the library with Hermione. He did not verbalize his fears, and she did not bring up what she had seen in his eyes that day in the hallway outside Defense. Trapped respectively in fear and shyness, they studied.

Monday afternoon Harry sat down in Professor Babbling's third year Ancient Runes class to find that his table was empty. The two Hufflepuffs who normally sat with him were elsewhere, busily pretending to review with their newfound Ravenclaw deskmates and looking anywhere but at him.

With a muted sigh Harry pulled out his notes and began glumly reading them over. It was a few moments later that he felt someone sit beside him, and a moment more before he glanced at the person. A small blond-haired girl wearing earrings that seemed to be radishes was sitting quietly, looking over her own notes. At a glance Harry could see that she had excellent penmanship, but he could make neither head nor tail of what she had been writing about.

"Eh, hello then," began Harry uncertainly. The girl turned to look at him silently. "Are you sure you want to sit with me?"

She looked quizzically at him before replying, "Are you sure you want to sit alone?"

Before he could reply to what he was not really sure was a rhetorical question, Professor Babbling entered and called the class to order.

Throughout the lecture Harry saw that the girl's strange notes were indeed real; she produced quite a bit of writing but none of it seemed to make any sense to him. After class ended he gathered his things and stood, intending to finally make the girl's acquaintance. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter," he said, "thanks for sitting with me today."

She stared for an uncomfortably long moment before speaking. "Yes, I suppose you are. My name is Luna Lovegood." Her grey eyes watched him. "Can you really throw off the _Imperious_ curse?"

He was taken aback for a moment, and noted absently that the other students were almost entirely gone from the room. "Yes, well, I did, yes."

"How interesting. And you really speak parseltongue as well." She seemed to consider this for a moment. "It's rather amazing that they got that right, but got the rest wrong. I will see you again, Harry Potter. Thank you for sitting with me." And with that, the girl walked away before Harry could reply.

In the great hall the following evening Harry, along with everyone else, saw the notice announcing the impending arrival of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang that coming Friday. Harry was pleased that it would at least cut short his double Potions torture. Briefly he wondered about the incoming students, whether they would follow the same pattern as the Hogwarts student body had with regard to him.

When he first boarded the Hogwarts Express, Harry had hoped to find friends. Now in his fourth year, he could say that he at least had managed to retain one. It would be nice to hope for another one or two among the visiting students, but he was not going to hold his breath.

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Fleur Delacour was in a bad mood. Madame Maxime had earlier dropped the bombshell that they would be staying in the coaches, magically enlarged, during their tenure at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She would be spending the entire rest of the year in the coach with her schoolmates.

If that wasn't bad enough, Madame Maxime had gone on to inform them, looking at Fleur particularly, that they were to 'remain decorous.' Decorous! Fleur knew what she meant. Maxime was obsessed with making sure that the Delacour's eldest daughter should not become interested in anyone from Magical Britain, and certainly not let her... heritage out to play. This was Maxime's own personal crusade, not imposed by Fleur’s parents, but the young witch had no real way to avoid it.

Her own schoolmates were hardly the best company in that regard, either. The girls were competitors, chosen already from among those who most strongly disliked her at Beauxbatons. And the boys...

_Boys_ , Fleur reflected hotly, _Boys indeed, and certainly nothing more_.

There was not one single boy at Beauxbatons who was capable of resisting her Veela allure for anything more than a few seconds. Frankly she thought that it ought to be embarrassing for them rather than her, but regrettably she did not get to make that decision. Instead it was up to the other girls in the academy to busily ostracize her for the failings of the rest of the student body.

In truth she was too beautiful, too intelligent, too skillful, too wealthy, and too well-known to ever be a pariah at Beauxbatons; she was treated coldly but generally without rancor.  That aside, Madame Maxime's own over-the-top concern with her parents' imagined fears about her Veela heritage guaranteed that she was never to be a regular student.

So her years at Beauxbatons had left her quite alone. This tournament, an opportunity to compete on an even playing field at another school, was a very welcome one to Fleur. She relished the chance to meet new people and prove herself. Her traveling companions were very strongly opposed to having her represent the school, but were unable to go against Maxime's declaration that she should accompany them.

Therefore they found themselves at an impasse, and this latest set of restrictions had put the last nail in the coffin. If Fleur was not chosen as the champion, she was sure that Madame Maxime would have her boxed up directly under her supervision until they left Hogwarts next June.

Her mother had warned her that it might be some time before she found someone who would be able to resist her allure; it was stronger than her mother's own and had shown itself to be quite difficult to restrain. Fleur had hoped she might even find someone at Hogwarts.

She was not going to hold her breath.

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Her mood did not improve upon departing the carriage and stepping out into the frigid air beyond the conditioning charms. She stood, scarf wrapped to hide her face, and waited for her headmistress to finish her greetings. She refrained from casting a warming charm, knowing that they were about to head inside and also that using her magic was likely to increase her allure, which thankfully seemed manageable outside, in the cold, her face covered, hidden among the other students.

Fleur’s expression twisted into a frown.  

Looking around, she noted that the Hogwarts grounds were every bit as beautiful as she had been led to believe, both extensive and well-maintained.  Whoever kept it in order, she reflected, must be doing quite a careful job of it.  The castle was enormous and quite lovely, and full of mysteries left over from the legendary four founders as Fleur well knew.  With any luck, she would get the chance to look around unsupervised.   Just as she was about to turn her attention to the students, she heard Madame Maxime ordering them inside.

The great hall was striking; the ceiling particularly held Fleur's attention, as it lived up to its reputation as a masterful piece of fixed charms. She was directed to sit with her schoolmates by Maxime, and set about waiting for the other students to enter. A few minutes later she saw the Hogwarts students alongside with those from Durmstrang; she recognized Viktor Krum from the World Cup that summer, but her eye was caught by a boy with a piercing green gaze who looked at the Beauxbatons students carefully before sitting down. She noticed that he was not engaged in conversation about Krum.

Once everyone had finally sat down, Dumbledore gave some opening remarks. Fleur could not suppress the contemptuous noise that escaped her when he spoke of their forthcoming stay at the castle. Maxime glowered at her but Fleur shrugged it off. She wasn't even going to be allowed to tour it freely if Maxime had her way!

At dinner she quickly found that her disdain had not gone unnoticed by the other Beauxbatons students. The party around her swiftly confiscated all the bouillabaisse, leaving her fuming. A few moments later she removed her scarf and immediately noticed the effects of her allure on the Ravenclaw table.

Fleur sighed.

At that moment she heard a voice call out, "Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?"

She turned and looked over to see the boy she had noticed earlier, the one with the messy black hair. He was smiling softly but kindly and waving at the very large gentleman who had just entered the hall. Then Fleur noticed the serving dish next to him and stood up. She walked over and called to him.

"Excuse me, but are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" She watched disgusted as three red-haired boys down the table made unfocused stares in her direction. Others around the table were starting to do the same, and she was beginning to think that Maxime's restrictions had some reason in them after all when the boy turned to her and replied.

"Yeah, have it."

Fleur took a moment before replying. He showed not a trace of her allure's effects; no unfocused stare, no silly behavior, nothing. He was utterly and completely at ease. Fleur spoke before the moment stretched too long. "You 'ave finished wiz it?"

The green-eyed boy nodded again and pushed it her way. Noting that whispers of "she's a Veela!" were already spreading around the hall, she accepted the dish gracefully and walked back to her seat. At the front of the hall Madame Maxime was staring with a mixture of anxiety and irritation at Fleur.

For her part, Fleur spent the rest of the meal thinking of the boy, and trying not to notice the effects of her allure on the rest of the male student body.

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When she entered the great hall for the Halloween feast the following evening, Fleur could almost feel her ears burning from the lecture Madame Maxime had given her. Fleur's lips compressed into a line as she thought of the hellfire Maxime had promised if she did anything that would “compromise the honor of Beauxbatons or her family."

_Honestly!_ Fleur fumed. _You would swear she thought I wanted this to happen to those idiots_.

Having been expressly forbidden from sitting at the Gryffindor table after she unwisely mentioned a preference, she took her seat with the rest of her classmates and waited for the feast to end and the Goblet of Fire to determine her destiny for the next few months.

When it was finally time and Headmaster Dumbledore had theatrically dimmed the lights of the hall, Fleur could not help but hold her breath. If she was not chosen, it promised to be a very much more difficult year.

Krum's name was not a surprise; Fleur knew that the Goblet must reward skill and some measure of daring. When the next charred paper exited the Goblet, though, her world slowed to a crawl.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," Dumbledore intoned, "is Fleur Delacour!"

She released the breath she was holding and tried to ignore the weeping of her schoolmates. Fleur shook her head in disgust, mastered her expression, and made her way into the waiting room.

It was only a few moments before Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts joined them. Fleur noted that neither boy seemed to be acting a complete fool around her, which was what she had hoped of the other champions, although she noted that both of them displayed a little of the euphoric stare when she looked right into their eyes.

Suddenly someone entered the room with them. Fleur looked up and was entirely surprised to see the green-eyed boy again. Instead of the pleasant soft smile she had seen before, though, he now had a drawn and frustrated expression on his face. "What is it?" She called out, "Do zey want us back in ze hall?"

The boy looked directly into her eyes, and his gaze did not change a jot like Krum's and Diggory's had. Instead, the frustration she saw only intensified. Before she could speak again, Ludo Bagman walked in and announced that the boy was the fourth Triwizard Champion.

Fleur cocked her head to the side and spoke, hoping for the best. "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman."

"Joke? No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!"

_Harry_ , she thought. _So his name is Harry_.

"But he is too young, yes?" Krum asked from over by the fireplace.

"Well... it is amazing," said Bagman as he looked at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the Goblet... I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage... It's down in the rules, you're obliged... Harry will just have to do the best he —"

Then the door opened and people began to file in: Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, and a number of professors she did not recognize.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur called out, "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"

Fleur immediately regretted her choice of words as she saw the boy- Harry- flinch. Soon everyone was talking though, and it did not get quiet again until after a greasy haired man accused Harry of always stepping out of line.

Then Dumbledore finally asked Harry the most important question.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" She heard the old wizard ask the question, and she saw Harry lift his head with a bitter expression on his face.

"No, sir."

The greasy-haired man snorted, indicating his contempt.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Dumbledore, ignoring the noise.

"No," said the boy vehemently.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime.

Fleur sighed in irritation as the company descended into arguments about whether Harry was lying. From where she was standing, he certainly seemed to be telling the truth. She then watched with interest as an old man with a wooden leg and a spinning false eye entered the room and joined the fray.

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled the man, "but... funny thing... I don't hear him saying a word..."

"Why should 'e complain?" Fleur said impatiently, stamping her foot. "' E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Zere is great honor to be 'ad! Zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," replied the man.

_Potter_. Fleur froze, hearing the name again. _Harry. Harry Potter._

The conversation went on and Fleur tried to follow it through the haze of her own realization. If there was ever a boy who was not interested in dying for honor in a school tournament, she suspected it would be Harry Potter.

And the green-eyed boy with the messy black hair and the soft smile? The boy who had calmly met her gaze and showed no sign of being affected by her Veela allure? The boy who claimed not to have entered the tournament, whose eyes showed no trace of triumph or happiness at being chosen? This frustrated, unhappy boy who was even now being told that he had no choice but to compete alongside them?

This was Harry Potter?


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Two

**"French is spoken in every language." - Margot Asquith**

Harry woke up the morning after Halloween and reflected that 31 October was not a particularly auspicious date for him.

Rubbing his eyes and sitting up in bed, Harry looked around at the empty dorm, then sighed and put his head in his hands. Last night, at the feast, he thought he would die on the spot when that thrice-cursed Goblet spat out a fourth slip of paper and Dumbledore read his name aloud. Every person in the hall was glaring at him, and it felt a thousand times worse than their glares had been feeling for the past few weeks. Ron had looked at him with undisguised loathing, while Hermione just stared open-mouthed at his expression of shock.

Hagrid, McGonagall, Moody, even Dumbledore had looked at him severely, judging.

When he walked into that room and saw the three champions by the fire, the feeling of frustration and panic had almost overwhelmed him. It was the voice of that girl that had drawn him out of it; she was the one he overheard everyone saying was a Veela.

He had remembered her, of course. Once she had removed her scarf at dinner and he saw her face he was absolutely confident that he would never, ever forget her. He had seen Veela at the Quidditch World Cup. He had spent a week at the beginning of term mooning over Cho Chang before choosing to spend his attention elsewhere, and at the time he had thought Cho to be the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

He knew different now. That title belonged to Fleur Delacour.

Harry shook his head and went off to take a shower, hopefully to get ready to face the day. Moody thought someone was out to kill him. The other Gryffindors were caught between admiration and uncertainty; last week's fear seemed weirdly transformed by what they thought he had managed to do. Once again, Harry Potter seemed to have done the impossible.

As he got dressed, Harry remembered the most biting comment of the whole evening. It had not been Snape, although he as usual was amazingly irritating. No.

" _Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!"_

He winced at the memory. It was hard to imagine how his ego could have shrunk further, really. When the beautiful foreign girl had then said that he should be pleased to compete, that had pretty much done it for him. He had denied to everyone that he had made any attempt to enter himself in the tournament. He did not even have the courage to speak to Hermione about it afterward, and had gone straight to bed.

He bit his lip to keep it from trembling at the thought of Hermione's expression the previous night. If even she did not believe him, then Harry knew he was utterly alone. The fear fell over him like a black cloud.  He would have to compete in this deadly tournament with no adults to help him, no professors to guide him, no friends to support him, no school to cheer for him.

Harry was certain that when he left the dorm, he would be heading for his death.

It took three or four minutes for Harry to get control of himself before he stood and took a deep breath, and headed down to the empty common room toward the hall.

HPHPHPHP

Hermione Granger walked up the stairs toward the portrait of the Fat Lady with a great deal of trepidation in her heart. She cast her mind back over the past few weeks and thought grimly that she had had higher hopes for her fourth year than this.

Harry coming to her with the news of dropping Divination and signing up for Ancient Runes with no prompting from her was the best thing she had heard since before summer. She had been ecstatic to help Harry get started, and was thrilled to see him applying himself across all their coursework and not relying on her for help.

She did help, of course, but Harry seemed far more driven than in the past, more focused.

_Well_ , Hermione reflected, _Not that he is never focused_.

Truthfully, she could recall many circumstances where Harry showed a poise that was beyond his years, in situations that would make any grown wizard quail or run in terror. When Harry got focused, he did not mess around. She could still recall the incredible show of magic from the end of third year, when Harry's _patronus_ charm scattered a hundred dementors.

She had investigated the _patronus_ of course, and knew from her research what Harry would probably never fully accept: no one had ever done what he had done that night. This was no killing curse put aside by a babe; this was consciously generated and controlled magic that drove every dementor the Ministry of Magic had placed at Hogwarts into full flight. She shivered at the memory.

She was not even certain that Harry thought of it as exceptional. She recalled with frustration the lackluster praise he had received for his bravery; her own contribution never entered her mind.

Hermione had seen Harry focused. But focused consistently? Every day? It made the boyish black-haired wizard seem much more than the Harry of third year. In fact, Hermione was having a hard time keeping herself from doing something about it.

Ron's departure had left she and Harry closer than ever, but Hermione was terrified. Harry seemed to have lost all the support of the school save her, and she was afraid to think what would happen if she pushed to change their relationship. He was already isolated; she did not want to make him feel even more so.

On top of all their trials with Ron's hostility and Malfoy's campaign, Hermione had to confront her worst fear: other girls.

Harry had at least stopped dwelling on Cho Chang as far as she could see, but that girl from France, Fleur Delacour! Hermione bit her lip. She had seen that Harry did not react to her as the other boys had, and although no one else seemed to have noticed, she was very concerned. She was especially concerned that Delacour had noticed too.

Still, even that would have been fine, but the double blow of Harry being entered into the tournament as a fourth champion and then thrust alongside the Delacour witch to boot... It was almost too much for one Hermione Granger to take.

Even as Harry's name had been called and silence had fallen, ushering in yet another adventure for her best friend, Hermione's mind had flooded with images of Harry bravely marching through the tasks with Delacour on his arm, leaving his unattractive, bushy-haired friend behind.

It was with fear that she had avoided him last night, but it was with resolve that she woke to confront him today. Hermione was not a Gryffindor for nothing. When he did not emerge from the dormitory, she headed down to the great hall to feel out the students and gathered some breakfast for him.

The hall had been about as she had expected. Half-hearted support from Gryffindor, mistrust from everywhere else. Hermione did note that she did not see Delacour at breakfast, but assumed that was a difficulty best dealt with later.

As she approached the portrait it suddenly flew open, revealing a determined Harry Potter on the other side. Her heart skipped a little at his expression, but she quickly recovered.

"Hello," she said, holding up a stack of toast. "I brought you this... Want to go for a walk?"

"Good idea," said Harry gratefully. He glanced around and led her downstairs and outdoors toward the lake. On a brisk morning, she did not expect they would be disturbed there. With any luck, she could keep Harry from getting himself killed.

Or worse, interested in some other girl.

HPHPHPHP

Fleur awoke with a headache, which she considered to be par for the course after the absolutely awful argument she had gotten into last night.

Even as they left the hall last night Madame Maxime had been laying into her about everything from her 'rights and responsibilities' as Beauxbatons champion to her 'unacceptable' comments about the fourth, unexpected competitor. Fleur of course had her own reservations about her comments, in fact she was utterly certain that she would never be able to extricate her foot from her mouth. That was apparently how Maxime wanted it to stay, however; the thrust of the headmistress's arguments seemed to be that Fleur should basically refrain from speaking for the remainder of the year.

Fleur began her morning toilet while planning her next encounter with Harry Potter. She was ashamed of what she had said to unintentionally demean him; she was further ashamed that she seemed to have misread his character. These issues needed to be addressed, partly because he was another champion and partly because he was the only boy close to her age she had ever met who could behave normally around her.

She exited the carriage quickly. Maxime could hardly restrain her, but she could keep her occupied if she so chose; Fleur sought to avoid that at all costs. As someone who commanded attention she was familiar with the importance of first impressions; she knew that she needed to correct any unfortunate ideas that Harry might already have about her. Walking into the brisk morning air, Fleur decided not to go directly to the great hall. She would have better luck with a few minutes walk to calm herself instead of running directly into a waiting mob of people who were almost certain to dislike her.

She was on the way back toward the castle after some time to clear her head when she heard voices coming from the rise ahead of her.

"Look, I know you always get a bunch of unwanted attention, and I know that things weren't that great even before yesterday, but I believe you." The girl's voice was full of desperate energy. Unconsciously Fleur slowed. Her next words brought Fleur to a halt completely.

"I believe you Harry. I know you don't want to be in this tournament."

The answering voice was low, but Fleur recognized it immediately. "Thanks Hermione. But you know how it is: Ron and Malfoy of all people making me an outcast, everyone wanting to gawk at my scar," he paused for a moment and continued bitterly, "and now this tournament. Moody says someone put my name in there hoping I'd get killed. And what did they all do? Nothing!"

Fleur flinched at the young man's tone.

"Harry," it was the girl again. "You know what we have to do when we go back inside, don't you?"

"Prepare to die?"

"That's not funny Harry!" Fleur heard the concern in the girl's voice. "You need to write to Sirius."

"Sirius? You really think so?"

"Yes, Harry. He needs to hear about this. Maybe he can give you some advice. Anyway, I know he, well, he cares about you. He should know."

In the long pause Fleur made sure she was obscured from view. Sirius? Sirius Black? The murderer who escaped Azkaban to kill Harry Potter after betraying James and Lily Potter?

_What the devil is going on here?_ Fleur thought to herself. She heard the two of them mention the owlery, then get up and walk toward the castle, and decided to follow them. At least she could wait for them to finish this business and try to talk to him. About this 'Sirius,' well, she rather hoped to get an explanation later.

One thing was absolutely certain to Fleur, though, as she walked toward the castle. Harry Potter did not enter himself in the Triwizard Tournament. And that girl, Hermione, not only believed him, but had his trust as well.

Fleur pushed that last thought to the back of her mind.

She waited down the hallway from the owlery, ignoring the occasional passerby's jealous glance or glassy stare. A few minutes later Harry and Hermione descended from the steps and caught sight of her. She walked toward them purposefully and introduced herself.

"Excuse me, do you 'ave a moment? I would really like to talk wiz you." Fleur noted the Hermione girl's stiffening posture and Harry's neutral expression. Taking heart, she charged ahead and put out her hand in greeting.

"You are 'Arry Potter, yes? My name eez Fleur Delacour. I am zorry about my words last evening. I spoke out of turn."

She did her best to appear friendly, and Harry at least seemed to relax at her words. "Miss Delacour, it's nice to meet you." He took her hand and she tried to ignore the little thrill as his eyes met hers. "This is my best friend, Hermione Granger," so saying he released her hand and indicated the brown-haired girl next to him.

Hermione eyed Fleur but smiled in greeting and took her hand as well. "Eet iz nice to meet you as well, Miss Granger."

"Likewise, I am sure," Hermione replied in French.

Fleur did a double take as she released the girl's hand. "You are fluent in my language?"

"My parents vacation in France most years. I have been speaking it since I was a young girl."

"Thank you for your courtesy, Miss Granger. If I do happen to have difficulty, I may turn to you for help."

Hermione smiled more genuinely this time. "I don't think that will be necessary, as you speak English very beautifully as well."

Harry meanwhile looked at his friend in astonishment. "You really surprise me sometimes, Hermione!"

Hermione flushed at the compliment.

"'Arry," Fleur began, "I would like to speak wiz you a bit zis morning about ze tournament, and about ze things I said." She felt a smile on her face as he seemed very happy to hear her words.

"That, well that would be wonderful Miss Delacour, but it is pretty chilly outside and I don't know where we can talk in the castle right now. I, ah..." His voice trailed off as a few passing students eyed him warily. "I'm not very popular right now, and I don't want to reflect badly on you. Hermione has already been doomed to be around me it seems." He grinned a little sadly at the girl to his right.

Suddenly Hermione seemed excited. "Harry, why not ask Dobby? He may know somewhere we can go."

"Good idea, Hermione. Dobby!" He called out. An instant later, a very strangely dressed house elf appeared before him, excitedly hopping up and down.

"What can Dobby do for the great Harry Potter sir?" The little elf called excitedly.

Fleur was amused as Harry blushed before pressing on. "Dobby," he lowered his voice, "is there a place we can go in the castle where we can sit comfortably and not be disturbed by anyone?"

The little elf thought for a moment before replying. "Yes Harry Potter sir, we could be taking you to the come-and-go room. It is quite a nice room Harry Potter sir, and it will change to be what you want."

Fleur was very interested in what he meant by that, but Hermione asked first. "Whatever we want? What do you mean Dobby?"

"Dobby is taking Winky there when she is drunk, Miss Grangy, and it is being a small room with a nice bed for an elf. Later I is taking things there and leaving them in a big storeroom! Sometimes-"

Harry cut him off, hesitant for others to overhear. "Dobby, that sounds brilliant. Can you take us there, discreetly? Miss Delacour here is rather noticeable," Harry said as he glanced around nervously.

Looking around as he was, he did not see the sudden flush that appeared on Fleur's cheeks. Hermione, watching them both carefully, noticed and frowned slightly.

"Yes Harry Potter sir, come over here in the corner and I will take you right there, one at a time, yes sir!"

They followed the small elf into an alcove by the owlery where he took Hermione's hand and promptly disapparated. He ignored Harry's astonished expression when he returned and turned to Fleur, who took his hand. A moment later, she was standing in front of a tapestry which appeared to be depicting a number of trolls dancing. She was so distracted by the strangeness of ballet dancing trolls that she missed Dobby's disappearance.

When he returned a moment later, Harry in tow, Hermione was ready to pounce on him in a fury of curiosity, but Harry got to him first.

"Dobby, where are we?"

"The seventh floor Harry Potter sir. You pace up and down right here and think of the room you want, and then no one can enter unless you let them in."

Fleur then watched as Harry paced three times before the blank hallway before a door appeared. He opened the door, turned to look at them all, and motioned them in.

Harry closed the door after Dobby entered. The little elf noticed the stack of toast Hermione was clutching and his eyes brightened. "May I gets you all some breakfast, Miss Grangy? Please?"

Hermione's expression turned a little uncertain before Harry spoke. "Please, Dobby, and thank you."

The little elf disappeared with a crack. The room seemed to be a comfortable sitting area with a nice fire and a small table, perfect for a chat. "Harry," Hermione began uncertainly.

"Hermione, it's fine. I know you're worried about house-elf rights but Dobby obviously was dying to get us breakfast and I'm hungry anyway." He looked around a bit before commenting, "I thought you couldn't apparate in Hogwarts?"

Hermione was handily distracted from her inquiry into house-elf rights. "That's right! Who knew that house elves could do that? It's amazing! It's not even in _Hogwarts: A History_!"

As Hermione began to look extremely excited, Harry turned to Fleur. "Miss Delacour, thanks for putting up with all that. We should be able to talk here."

"'Arry please, eet eez Fleur, yes?" She smiled and he nodded a little nervously. "And do not apologize, zis is amazing! I 'ave never seen such magic that creates a room out of nozzing at all!" She moved to take a seat.

Hermione sat down, followed by Harry, and immediately Dobby returned with a full breakfast and beverages for them all.

"Dobby," Hermione began, "Dobby how can elves apparate and disapparate within the wards of the castle?"

Dobby looked at her uncertainly. "We live here, Miss Grangy. We is having to get around to make sure to do our jobs for... for the people here!"

Hermione appeared to be ready to argue the point before Fleur interrupted her.

"Excuse me, Miss Granger, but-"

"Hermione, please."

"Very well, zen you must call me Fleur, 'Ermione." All three of them seemed pleased by that exchange.

As they served themselves breakfast, Fleur continued. "Are you a muggleborn witch, 'Ermione?"

"Yes," Hermione replied a little defensively, "I am."

Fleur waved her hands in apology as she saw Harry about to say something. "'Arry, 'Ermione, I meant no disrepect. Eet eez just ze way you think about 'ouse elves. They must be bonded wiz ze place zey work as much as ze people, ozzerwise zey cannot live."

This brought Hermione up short. "Wait, cannot live? Surely you don't mean that."

The blond-haired girl nodded seriously. "Yes, I do. An unbonded 'ouse elf wiz no family will not live long."

"But Dobby is fine, Fleur! He's free and unbonded!" Hermione replied, gesturing at the small elf.

Dobby suddenly seemed very nervous as his ears eyes widened.

Harry noticed his elf friend's reaction along with Fleur's frank expression of disbelief. "Dobby, can you tell me the truth? Are you a free elf?"

The little elf's ears lay flat and tears appeared in his eyes as he grabbed Harry's leg and began sobbing. "Harry Potter, the great Harry Potter please forgive Dobby! Dobby will punish himself however you ask, but please please do not dismiss Dobby! Please, Harry Potter!"

Hermione stood open-mouthed at Dobby's reaction, while Fleur looked on the scene with growing emotion. Who was Harry Potter to inspire such love in an elf, one that Harry was not even aware had bonded with him? "'Arry, what eez going on? Dobby 'as not always worked 'ere?"

Harry's expression answered her question before he spoke. "No, Fleur, he did not. He used to belong-"

"To the Malfoys!" Hermione almost shouted, her anger evident. "They made him iron his own hands, they made him miserable! Harry finally tricked Lucius Malfoy into releasing him and he has been a free elf around the castle ever since." She looked over at the still sobbing Dobby. "Well..."

Fleur got out of her seat and knelt down before the weeping elf. "Dobby? Look at me, please." The little elf turned to her fearfully while Hermione and Harry looked on. "Dobby, please tell zem what 'appened. I do not know why 'Arry Potter does not know about 'ouse elves, but you should be 'onest wiz 'im." She smiled gently at Dobby, then looked up to see an answering smile on Harry's face and an uncertain one on Hermione's.

Then Dobby rubbed his eyes and spoke. "It is being true, Master Harry Potter. Dobby is having bonded with you." He looked imploringly at Harry. "Please Master Harry Potter, you is a great wizard and I have always wanted to serve you. Please do not," here he had to turn away as he began crying, "dismiss me."

Hermione did not know how to react to the news. The fact of Dobby's bonding had destroyed what she thought she had known about house elves. If they had to be bonded to wizards, where did that leaver her protection initiative?

Harry looked at Hermione and made his decision. "Dobby, I do not want any harm to come to you. Of course you can still be, ah, my elf." Dobby hurled himself against Harry again at this news, crying. "But Dobby, we need to know about house elves. I don't know very much about the magical world."

Fleur heard this declaration with astonishment. Everything that had happened since she walked out the carriage this morning had raised more questions, and she had as yet very few answers. At least here, she could offer a few herself.

"'Arry, 'Ermione, zere are families zat treat ze elves very badly. My family 'az three elves who are all very 'appy wiz us. In France mistreating elves is a crime." She looked on to see Hermione's reaction to this.

Hermione had to sit down again as the weight of the revelations proved to be too much for one morning. "Fleur, I thought that wizards were enslaving magical creatures. Slavery is wrong."

"Zis eez something zat ze elves want." She glanced over at the still nervous Dobby. "Right?"

"Oh yes Miss Fleurs, we is always wanting to be part of a nice family. The great wizard Harry Potter freed me from my bad family and I have only ever wanted to help him since then."

Harry looked on at this declaration with a degree of tenderness in his expression that Fleur had so far never seen. It was a far cry from the stiff greeting only a few minutes ago, and a world away from his expression when they met with the other champions. She blushed as he began to speak.

"Dobby, thank you. You know I have almost no family of my own. I will never dismiss you unless you ask for it. But Dobby, you must never punish yourself. Ever." He looked seriously at the small elf who was nodding happily in agreement.

"Harry Potter is truly the greatest wizard in the world!"

"Dobby," Hermione's shaken voice called out across the table. "Dobby, are you sure? This is what all elves want?" She looked imploringly at him.

He turned to face her, clearly much more calm now. "Yes Miss Grangy, we is. Dobby is wanting with all his heart to help Master Harry Potter." She sighed and looked away. Fleur wondered for a moment whether she would get up and leave the room.

"All right, Dobby. But please, please make sure that..." Her voice trailed off for a moment. "Dobby, is Winky bonded to anyone?"

His expression turned sorrowful. "No Miss Grangy, she is not. Winky is not doing very well at all, still drinking a great deal. No one will want to bond with her."

Hermione bit her lip as she seemed to reach a very serious decision. "Dobby, tell Winky that if she can be sober for three days to come and see me. I may have someone to bond with her."

Harry looked at her in shock. "Are you serious, Hermione?"

"Yes!" She shot back at him. "Of course I am! If she is to die otherwise, what kind of decision is that? If I can trust you with Dobby then I can surely trust myself with Winky!" Tears started to form in her eyes and she rubbed them away angrily.

A moment passed, and she looked over at Fleur. "I guess this is hardly the morning you were expecting with us, Fleur. If you want to leave, I know I'll understand." She looked over at Harry, who seemed to sadden as he nodded in agreement.

Seeing the two of them and realizing abruptly that she had hardly been awake for three hours yet, and that those hours had been among the most extraordinary of her life, she responded without hesitation.

"I would like to stay and talk, eef you will allow eet." She smiled happily as they seemed pleased. "To be frank, this 'as been the most extraordinary breakfast I 'ave ever 'ad!"

At this the tension finally seemed to break and Harry laughed. It was the first real, honest laugh that he could remember for weeks. He was almost doubled over when he finally recovered, noticing that the two girls had joined him in the laughter.

"All right, Fleur, Hermione. When I woke up I was about ready to jump off the Astronomy tower. Now I think this might be the best Sunday I have ever been through!"

Outside the room, there was a castle of people mistrustful of Harry, unkind to Hermione, and hostile to Fleur, but in the room there were just three young people who seemed altogether happy to be in each other's company. It was not the morning any of them had been expecting, but it was far better than any of them could have imagined.

HPHPHPHP

Ron Weasley was not a happy Gryffindor.

His father's latest letter indicated that something 'surprising' would be showing up at Hogwarts later in the year, but did not elaborate. Apart from that, Ron had had basically no good news at all for quite a few weeks.

Initially getting away from Hermione had been liberating, and he was happy to stay angry with Harry; he was certainly not taking a third year class in place of Divination. Lavender Brown was in that class!

The first big issue had really been Draco Malfoy after that Defense class. Ron had been burning up with jealousy as Harry once again did what no one else could do, but when he was forced to basically agree with Malfoy he felt a bit strange. It was even more odd that everyone seemed to be siding with him, and against Harry and Hermione.

It felt good to be on the side of all the other Gryffindors though, for the most part anyway. Ginny, Fred, and George had all taken the matter less strongly than the others had, although none of them sought out Harry or Hermione for company. Even Ginny declined to go to the library and study with them.

The other houses were another matter. Draco had the Slytherins basically thinking that Harry was one step from outright murder while the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were largely going along with it; how often did Gryffindor and Slytherin agree anyway? Ron certainly couldn't remember.

Still, he knew that his grades were going to suffer, and that meant possible howlers from home. In the past Hermione had always been there to bail him out, but now he was beginning to be unsure. Neither Harry nor Hermione had so much as said hello to him since the DADA lesson. It was very different, Ron felt.

He was not sure how to feel about it.

Then the other schools had arrived, and Krum, and the champions had been selected.

And then Harry had been chosen.

Ron felt sick to his stomach thinking about it. Both Fred and George had ended up with long beards after trying to cross the age line, and no one else even got that far. And then Harry Potter somehow wriggled his way into the championship. Fame, money, adventure, and then he had to pretend that he didn't want any of it!

Anger took the place of Ron's earlier malaise. He knew that many of the Gryffindors were resolved to support Harry as a member of the house no matter what. Ron refused to join them. When Harry was ready to admit that he entered himself in the tournament, maybe Ron would forgive him.

HPHPHPHP

"Would Harry Potter's Miss Fleurs like another cup of tea?" Dobby asked, popping in on Fleur's left.

Fleur blushed a bit at the house elf's question, and hoped that Harry did not notice. "Oui, Dobby. I appreciate eet." He smiled and disapparated. As he left, Fleur suddenly realized something. She pulled out her wand and spoke " _Tempus_." There in the air above her the spell indicated five in the afternoon. How long had they been talking?

"Is everything all right, Fleur? Did you have somewhere you needed to be?" Hermione asked politely.

"Oh no, eet iz fine. I was curious," Fleur replied.

"That's good," Harry commented. "I was really enjoying the company." Both witches smiled in response to this.

Earlier that morning after their initial conversation about Dobby, Fleur had spoken briefly about her home in France, near Saint-Raphael, and the elves there. Her glowing description of her younger sister Gabrielle had Harry and Hermione smiling. This had led to Hermione mentioning that she had no siblings, and then subsequently explaining her own family and the muggle home she lived in. Having lived her entire life within the magical world, Fleur was really fascinated to hear about Hermione's childhood.

Harry, Fleur noted, refrained almost entirely from commenting on his life before and away from Hogwarts, but spoke very freely about his time at the school. Fleur tried to respect his privacy; she could not help but note, also, that neither of them wished to intrude on hers and asked her nothing about being part Veela that she did not volunteer on her own.

What really took her by surprise was the matter of fact way that Harry and Hermione spoke of their adventures while in school. She asked several times for them to clarify parts of their stories, and by the afternoon had gotten them to explain mostly about their first two years worth of “education.”

She was absolutely shocked to hear about Voldemort, and was hesitant to believe it until she looked a little closer at Harry and Hermione. Harry especially seemed extremely serious, and on reflection she found it very, very hard indeed to believe that the Boy-who-lived would make up stories of Voldemort's return. The tale of the basilisk was equally amazing, but Fleur conjured a snake so he could demonstrate his parseltongue abilities for her.

He had been extremely hesitant to do so, but Fleur had insisted. After she had banished the snake she had shaken her head in astonishment. "'Arry Potter, you are quite a bit more than I 'ad expected!"

Hermione had laughed at that, and Harry had agreed to show Fleur the Chamber of Secrets since she was very curious about it. When she asked about who had gone there, Harry had to reply that he had really taken no one else.

Truthfully, for all three of them it had been an amazing afternoon. Neither Harry nor Hermione had really gotten a chance to speak with someone magical outside the British wizarding world, and Fleur rarely ventured outside of home or Beauxbatons thanks to her allure. None of them had friends in the magical world elsewhere.

Since earlier that month, in fact, Harry and Hermione had basically been spending their time alone in Hogwarts. Fleur felt the same about her own school.

Sighing, Fleur realized that eventually she would have to leave to have dinner. Madame Maxime had to be wondering where she was after all.

"'Arry, 'Ermione, I cannot tell you both how much I enjoyed today. I-" She caught herself for a moment and looked at the other two. "Well, I do not want zees to be ze last time we talk."

"Fleur, don't take this the wrong way, but you are nothing like what I expected." Fleur looked up to see Harry smiling at her. "I feel better today than I have in a long while. I know we're all busy with school, but I really want to see you both again." After he spoke Harry reflected on what he had said, and his face flushed. "I mean, to talk. You know."

Hermione gave him an exasperated sigh. "Harry, you're ridiculous. Fleur, of course we want to see you again. I think you're the best friend I've made since Harry!" Hermione gave a genuine smile. Although she was still insecure about being in the beautiful witch's company, Hermione was not exaggerating her enthusiasm.

When Fleur smiled and stood up, Harry did as well, and Hermione followed. Then Harry spoke.

"Dobby!" Once the elf had appeared Harry asked him a question. "Dobby, does anyone else know about the come-and-go room, or that we came here?"

"No, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby shook his head. "The Room of Requirement is not really being known to anyone but the elves I is thinking, and no one was seeing us here."

"Brilliant, Dobby. Thanks! Now can you do me a favor?" The elf nodded in agreement. "Dobby, please do not tell anyone about us meeting with Fleur, since Madame Maxime may not like it. We may want to come back here. If we want to, can you help us or Fleur?"

"Yes Harry Potter! Dobby will be happy to help him see his Grangy and his Fleurs!"

Harry winced a bit before straightening and thanking the elf. He turned blushing at the expression of the two witches. "Well, there you are. Just call for Dobby when you think it's safe and he can relay a message, or I suppose you can send an owl. If nothing else we can at least have tea on the weekends!"

"Zat would be marvelous, 'Arry," Hermione was a bit worried at seeing Fleur's winning smile directed at the blushing Harry. "Madame Maxime will likely be keeping 'er eye on me, but I will try to zee you both."

"Perhaps we can do a little studying together, in here then? I mean it seems like we could all do with a bit of a break from the rest of the castle sometimes." Hermione sounded hopeful, and was pleased to see them both nod in reply. She flashed her own winning smile at Harry, but suspected it had been a bit less effective than Fleur Delacour's.

Harry and Hermione bid Fleur goodbye as Dobby apparated her to a more convenient place so she could freshen up for dinner. Then they both checked the Marauder's map for anyone in the hallway and headed out when the coast was clear.

Both were somewhat silent, a little overwhelmed by the unexpected experience.

HPHPHPHP

At dinner that night Harry, Hermione, and Fleur all found themselves a bit hoarse from their marathon of talking. The Gryffindors could not explain Harry and Hermione's good mood, but some seemed to suggest that there might be a new couple at Hogwarts. Overhearing the rumor almost put Ron off his dinner.

Fleur had smiled and nodded at the pair when she sat down, but did not otherwise indicate that she was being friendly with them. It seemed the best way to avoid attention overall. For her part, Fleur could not wait for her next opportunity to meet them. She had not expected Hermione, and certainly was not sure how to proceed, but for now she was more than happy to be friends with the two.

Hermione still felt some trepidation about Fleur with regard to Harry, but she had enjoyed herself far too much to contemplate not being friends with the older witch. Really, to think that instead she might be spending time with Ron Weasley! Hermione almost laughed aloud at the thought.

Harry meanwhile was fighting the urge to pinch himself. How could a day go from terrible to terrific so easily? Granted his problems were by no means over, but the compensation of today's visit with Fleur and Hermione was more than he ever expected. Hermione had seemed so sweet and concerned for him this morning, standing there with her toast and a determined expression. She had been... cute.

_Cute?_ Harry thought to himself. _Is she really?_

And then he thought about Fleur. He certainly never thought he would be spending the afternoon in her company. Even more amazing was that after today he realized that her breathtaking beauty was really only the first great thing about her. Both she and Hermione had been so genial and warm, spending time together and telling tales.

It had been one of the best days of his life.

With that thought, Harry turned to finish his dinner in earnest. Tomorrow was looking a great deal brighter than it had this morning.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Three

AN: I am very pleased to see the reviews, followers, and favorites my story has garnered. Thank you very much for your kind attention and words. I have made some edits and updates to the prior chapters (nothing too serious) so you may want to check them out. I thought I also might note that every so often I quote directly from JKR, as I do in this chapter. As always, if you find anything amiss, please let me know. Thanks for reading!

HPHPHPHP

**"Everyone in this country is assumed to know the law: - except the judiciary, who are subject to appeal." - Cyril Asquith**

Monday's Care of Magical Creatures class was to be dreaded for a variety of reasons. First, Harry and Hermione had to see the Slytherins. Second, they had to see Ron. Finally, they had to see the blast-ended skrewts.

It was a testament to their love of Hagrid that the two showed up not merely on time but early. Seeing no one else around yet, Hagrid leaned down to say conspiratorially to Harry, "So, no idea who put yeh in fer it, Harry?"

Harry almost felt tears come to his eyes at Hagrid's question. "You believe I didn't do it then?"

"'Course I do," Hagrid grunted. "Yeh say it wasn' you, an' I believe yeh — an' Dumbledore believes yer, an' all."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry replied with a grin. "Really, thank you."

Next to him, Hermione was pleased as well. "Now if only we could figure out who _did_ enter him in the tournament."

After that, even Hagrid's announcement that they would be taking the skrewts for a walk was tolerable. Malfoy spent the class period taking bets on when exactly Harry would be dying, and Ron was ignoring them entirely.

For his part, Harry was on rather an even keel after the events of Sunday. It was difficult to deal with his classmates and he knew it would only get worse, but he was doing all right for now. Hermione was also pleased, particularly seeing that Harry was being the bigger man and not rising to Draco's taunts.

She was still dealing with her own feelings; in a way, having the whole school against them seemed to be giving her more time with Harry than she had ever had before. And Fleur...

Well, Hermione was holding out exactly what to think about Fleur. Surely she couldn't really be interested in Harry... that way? He was younger, after all. She glanced over at Harry, who was currently wrangling one of the skrewts and betraying no sign of his distress.

Hermione was suddenly entirely too aware that she was staring at him, and blushed when she turned away. No, Fleur Delacour might well be interested in him as more than a friend. Even more so since Fleur did not seem to have many real friends to start with.

But where did that leave Hermione? Fleur was certainly starting to be her friend. What if Fleur decided to go after Harry? The brown-haired girl looked down at herself for a moment. She was stunningly inadequate next to Fleur Delacour, for certain. In fact, she had never seen another girl so beautiful before.

Sighing, Hermione moved to help Hagrid with another of the skrewts. She would just have to see what happened. She was not ready to try anything else with her best friend.

HPHPHPHP

Harry's week did not improve. In Ancient Runes only Luna seemed to want to speak with him, and she was the only person who came to study next to Harry and Hermione in the library. The Slytherins were taunting him at every turn while about half of the Gryffindors offered encouragement even as they still believed that he had entered himself in the tournament.

The Hufflepuffs proved to be the most bitter, as it seemed to them that Harry Potter was deliberately stealing the glory of the 'real' Hogwarts champion. He even felt a bit of coldness from Professor Sprout. The Ravenclaws seemed to rally to Cedric's side as well and gave him nothing but venomous glances every night at dinner. Harry and Hermione spent their time either in the library or the Room of Requirement.

One bright spot came in the middle of the first week when Fleur met them there, and they were all witness to Hermione bonding with an extremely grateful Winky. Fleur revealed that her own week had been rather unpleasant as well, with Madame Maxime hovering over her studies.

Fleur did not reveal that her careful sounding out of the headmistress and some of the Hogwarts student body about Harry Potter had seemed to confirm his and Hermione's stories in every detail. In an effort to reassure the other participating schools that Harry would be up to the task, Dumbledore had been forced to reveal a few details of Harry's earlier years. Maxime was a little incredulous, but Dumbledore was hardly a man to joke about such matters.

More isolated than the other two, Fleur spent a greater amount of time in reflection. She did recall vividly the way Harry and Hermione spoke about each other. Harry downplayed his own bravery, and extolled Hermione's intelligence and loyalty; Hermione talked down her role and claimed that Harry had done what no one else could have.

Hermione was clearly interested in him, but Fleur could see that she had as yet taken no action. Harry seemed clueless. Fleur was not sure what her own feelings were yet. Their second meeting in the Room of Requirement, though, confirmed that she wanted to remain friends with both of them.

HPHPHHP

The following Saturday evening, Harry headed to meet with Fleur and Hermione in the Room of Requirement, taking with him the cloak and the Marauders’ Map. He planned to call Dobby for his firebolt before they entered the chamber.  

The young wizard was still somewhat nervous about leading the girls into the secret room - it felt a bit showy to him - and prevaricated a little before they set off.  “Well, if you really like I can take you both to the chamber. I know it's sort of hard to believe some of the stuff I said-“

"'Arry," Fleur interrupted, "I believe you and I know zat 'Ermione does also."

"Thanks, Fleur," Harry said gratefully. "All the same I have to wonder whether there's anything else interesting down there."

"Me too!" Hermione chimed in. "If it really is Salazar Slytherin's, then who knows what we might find there!"

"We'll still need to be careful, Hermione," Harry stated. "The basilisk is dead, but who knows what else has been living down there?"

"I understand, 'Arry. We will be careful." Fleur was smiling. She could not wait to see the chamber. Fleur was herself very well versed in detection spells and static curses; it had always been one of her favorite subjects of study, and she was excited to see how she fared in a real-world environment, particularly one as exotic as this.

"All right. We will be walking down there under my cloak. Using the elves to apparate in there might, well..."

"End in embarrassment?" Hermione asked amusedly.

"That, yes."

"You 'ave an invisibility cloak, 'Arry?" Fleur was interested. They were very expensive items, and their charm work was known to need respelling with some regularity.

Harry's eyes fell away from her and toward his bag, as he pulled out a shimmering, silvery garment. "It was my father's," he replied softly as he held it out to her.

Fleur caught the emotion in his tone, but chose not to comment on it. _What happened to him?_ She wondered to herself. Taking the cloak in her hand, she marveled at it. After studying it for a moment, she looked up uncertainly at both of them.

"'Arry, 'Ermione, 'ave either of you 'andled another invisibility cloak?" They shook their heads in a negative reply. "Zis... zis cloak is very fine. 'ow often 'ave you 'ad it reenchanted?" They looked at each other and then stared at her blankly. Fleur's eyes widened. "Never?"

Hermione was the first to reply. "Is there something wrong, Fleur?"

"Non," she said absently, holding the garment in her hand, "Nozzing is wrong, but zis is a very powerful object. You should keep eet safe, 'Arry." She returned it to him, and he nodded firmly in reply.

"All right. We'll need to keep quiet and stay out of the way. The halls should be pretty clear around Myrtle's bathroom about this time though, and we have the map." He grinned and removed a blank sheet of parchment, tapped it with his want and intoned, "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good."

To Hermione's unconcern and Fleur's astonishment, the map began to display a spidery tracework of the castle with dots moving around, labelled with names.

"But zis eez amazing, Hermione, Harry! Wherever deed you get zis?" She was astonished by the items Harry seemed to be utterly unconcerned with carrying around.

Hermione looked at her for a moment before replying, "I don't know what to tell you about it, Fleur," she looked over at an uncertain Harry. "I think we can tell you, but not today, all right?"

The blonde witch nodded in reply. "I understand." _And I still have not asked about this 'Sirius' either._

Taking a deep breath, Harry held the cloak above his head, map in hand, and gestured to the two girls. "Shall we go?"

Immediately upon Fleur pressing close against him under the cloak Harry began having difficulty breathing. When Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled herself close on the other side he had to wait a moment before trying to speak.

"Ah, ok," he began uncertainly, hoping neither of the two girls noticed, "Looks- looks like the corridor is clear, so let's go then."

Acting more decisive than he felt, Harry made his way out of the Room of Requirement with both witches uncomfortably- or was that entirely too comfortably- close.

On his left, Hermione tried not to look at Fleur as she was absolutely certain her face was passing through crimson at the moment. When she saw the older girl take Harry's arm and pull herself against him she almost said something to her, before she realized that as close as they had had to be with herself, Harry, and Ron under the cloak in first year, they had gotten a bit larger since then.

Still, as much as she was afraid that Harry was never going to notice her, she was certainly noticing him. Harry almost never touched anyone, so this contact was really very intimate for the both of them.

Hermione heard Harry having difficulty breathing. The three of them, then.

_Well, I'd certainly rather be cuddling up to Fleur Delacour than Ron Weasley any day of the week_ , she thought amusedly.

Fleur meanwhile was very interested in Hermione's reaction to her, almost as much as she was interested in feeling Harry. She was pleased to note that although he was slim, he seemed to be quite sinewy. She had hardly expected him to be anything else after Hermione's descriptions of his Quidditch playing, but it was very nice to experience for herself. His nervousness as she pressed herself against his arm was really charming; she had never been so close to anyone who was not a family member, and yet again he surprised her by remaining as polite as possible, never deliberately trying to press closer or touch her without her consent.

She appreciated his discretion; it was a rare experience for a Veela.  

He _was_ interested though, that much was certain, she thought with a smug smile. She was proud to be beautiful, and pleased that she had found someone who was appreciating it. Although she didn't want him drooling over her, she was very happy to see him blushing at her touch.

It was also nice that although he was a bit shorter than she was, he was not embarrassingly so. He was three years younger than she was, after all.

Briefly, she wondered what the rest of the students would think if she were to come into the great hall on Harry's arm. She had to refrain from laughing at the thought of his already jealous classmates looking on in shock.

After a few careful stops to let people pass by, Harry was feeling a bit more able to focus on the map. It gave him something to distract himself from the women currently cuddled very close to him, something he had never felt in his life.

Hermione, he had noticed last year while riding Buckbeak, was not the girl she had been in first year. He had already been thinking of his best friend differently, but he doubted that he would have thought to try anything with Ron around. Now, with Hermione hanging on his arm, he could actually feel her breasts pressed against him. Only the fear of making a complete fool of himself kept him from passing out.

And then there was Fleur hanging on his left. Naturally the silver-blonde haired witch was more developed, and he could feel every bit of it; the fact that she had been behaving so normally around him gave him the desire to keep himself firmly in line.

Still, Harry was quite relieved when they made it to Myrtle's empty bathroom and the two witches stepped away from him.

"Why hello there Harry," Myrtle greeted him as she floated out of her stall, "Come for a chat perhaps?" As the ghost batted her eyelids at him Fleur could not stop herself from speaking.

"'Ello, we are 'ere with 'Arry tonight, 'e and 'Ermione are being kind enough to show me around ze castle." The ghost looked at her sharply and was about to retort before Harry intervened.

"Myrtle, it's good to see you. Myrtle, this is Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, and I know you remember Hermione." Harry lowered his voice a bit, "I'm taking them to the Chamber of Secrets."

"Really, Harry? Just looking around then? Well, I would _like_ to tell you a secret then. But you'll have to ask me nicely."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Myrtle's behavior but remained silent.

Harry smiled at the ghost. "Please do, Myrtle. I’d be happy to hear what you have to say."

Myrtle flushed and then replied, "I know last time you fell down a chute there. The little redheaded girl who was coming here before always went down and up some stairs." Myrtle floated a little closer to him and Harry tried not to notice the chill. "I hope you find it useful, Harry!" Seemingly overcome with emotion, Myrtle giggled and dove back into her stall, leaving the trio looking at one another in amusement.

Fleur spoke first. "Such a charmer, eezn't he 'Ermione?"

"Oh naturally, Fleur. He even got Professor McGonagall to give him a Nimbus 2000 first year!" Hermione replied, grinning at Harry's obvious discomfort.

"All right, let's try this. _Open!_ " The passageway opened and Fleur instantly drew her wand, once again amazed to hear parseltongue. Harry paused a moment before saying " _Stairs!_ "

A stairway formed silently and Harry began to descend, motioning for the girls to follow. Once they were inside, he made sure the entrance was closed and then said " _Lumos_."

Both Fleur and Hermione were entranced by the entryway, and Harry made sure to point out to Fleur that it was Hermione who had deduced that Slytherin’s monster was a basilisk, which had allowed him to save Ginny Weasley. In the dim light, he missed Hermione blushing at the tone of pride in his voice.

They made their way down carefully.  Harry and Hermione deferred to Fleur’s greater experience in detection charms, and the older girl scanned for traps every few meters.  Harry had to refrain from comment as Hermione asked Fleur about the charms she was employing; some things never changed.  The two girls definitely had things to talk about though, he reflected.  It was a world of difference from what he usually saw when his two friends were interacting.  The French girl was respectful and able to converse on Hermione’s level; Ron was typically dismissive and unwilling to hear their clever friend out.  Now that he thought about it, Harry wondered whether being apart from Ron might be even better for Hermione than for him.

Once they left the stairs, they quickly approached the scene of the cave-in. "This is where Lockhart tried to obliviate us. We'll need to clear a little entryway here." He glanced at the two girls, and noted that Fleur was studying the area critically.

"'Arry, let me cast a few charms to hold these things togezzer better, zen we can levitate some rocks to clear ze path."

Hermione concurred with this and watched intently as Fleur case the charms. While they were levitating the rocks, Hermione asked, "Fleur, I know you must be busy with coursework and all, but could you perhaps show me that charm later? It seems very useful."

Fleur smiled at her interest. "Certainly, 'Ermione. Perhaps we can 'ave ze room upstairs become a training area."

"That would be great, Fleur, but we don't want to get in the way of you studying you know," Harry said.

She waved away his concern. "I was informed of ze tournament zis summer, zo I have been very prepared for my work. I 'ave always been ahead in school az well."

Hermione was not sure whether to grin or be alarmed to note that she and Fleur had something in common there. "You do well at Beauxbatons then, Fleur? I mean you must, to have the Goblet select you as champion!"

The veela girl looked a bit embarrassed. "Oui, I do well zere. I 'ave been ze top student in my year."

"That's great, Fleur!" Harry said as they cleared away the last of the rock from their passageway. "Hermione is always top of the school for our year as well!"

He was already walking ahead and did not see the two witches look at each other before they followed. When they reached the barred door, Harry turned toward them. "I don't know what the basilisk looks like after all this time, so let's be careful. If we need to run, or if you see anything strange, yell immediately." With that, Harry took a deep breath, turned to the door, and called out " _Open!_ "

As the doorway opened they were pleasantly surprised to find only the same musty scent as the corridor. When Harry walked inside the girls followed him, but stopped almost immediately. Hermione gaped as she looked at the basilisk corpse before them.

"Harry, it... It's enormous! You never said it was anything like that big! How the bloody hell did you ever kill it with a sword?" She turned and grabbed his arm, tears in her eyes as she thought of him facing the monster down alone.

Fleur, for her part, was still staring open-mouthed at the creature. When Harry said he had slain the basilisk, she had thought of a creature less than half this size and still found it hard to imagine. Looking at it, she could only think of a twelve year old boy bravely facing it down with... "A sword? You killed zis monster with a sword?" She said incredulously as she turned to Harry.

He looked a bit sheepish as he tried to comfort Hermione before replying, "I didn't have my wand."

Fleur stumbled and grew pale, staring at the boy, or rather the wizard before her. No wand? She looked again at the dead basilisk, which looked to be twenty meters long. "You really deed zis, 'Arry? You faced zis at twelve?"

Harry looked down at the ground, embarrassed. "I was lucky. Fawkes, that's the Headmaster's phoenix, brought the Sorting Hat and I pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of it. Then after I had killed it and the basilisk poison had almost gotten me, Fawkes' tears saved my life. That's when I stabbed the diary." He looked over at the spot, near the base of the statue, and a pained expression crossed his face.

"Lucky!" Hermione said as she looked up at him, rubbing tears from her eyes. "Lucky? Harry, no one else could have done what you did. Look at that thing! Any grown man would have died of fright with a hundred wands at his side! You saved the whole school by yourself! I think this is even braver and more amazing than what you did to those dementors last-" Hermione stopped herself as she heard a sharp intake of breath from where Fleur was standing.

Harry quickly looked over at Fleur, who was staring at them both with a nervous expression. "Fleur, um," he began before the French witch cut him off.

"'arry, I 'ave not been entirely 'onest wiz you both." She quailed a bit as they suddenly stood straight and faced her with very serious expressions. "Please, you must understand zat I meant no 'arm to eizzer of you, and I 'ave told no one of our conversations." She sat down and motioned for them to do the same, then carefully laid her wand at her side, showing that she did not intend to use it.

"Fleur, what do you mean?" Harry asked pointedly. He did not want to distrust her, but he was naturally wary.

"Ze day I first met you by ze owlery, I had overheard you both speaking at ze lake." Hermione's gasp made her wince. "As I said, I told no one. I heard 'Arry say zat 'e did not enter ze tournament, and you saying zat you believed him." She looked carefully at both of them. "'Arry, 'Ermione, will you tell me about Sirius?"

Hermione quickly composed herself. "Fleur, he's a distant relation of Harry's, you see, and Harry needed to write to him to-"

"Please do not insult my intelligence, 'Ermione." Fleur cut in with a dismissive wave of her hand. "'e must be Sirius Black, yes? What eez going on?" She noted the look of panic on Harry's face and sought to reassure him. "'Arry, I am not judging you. I have learned enough about you both to trust you. But please tell me."

She looked on him imploringly, and Harry felt he could hardly resist her expression. "Fleur, Sirius Black is my godfather-"

"Harry! This is Sirius' life we're talking about here!" Hermione exclaimed frantically.

"Hermione! Look at Fleur. She wants us to trust her!" His expression softened and he spoke again to his friend. "Fleur has been nothing but kind to both of us. I do not believe that she will betray our trust. Do you?"

Hermione took a long glance at Fleur's hopeful and anxious expression before replying. "All right," she took a deep breath, "Fleur, I will trust you with this. But please know that Sirius is probably the closest thing to family that Harry has left!" She ignored Harry looking away shyly.

"I understand, 'Ermione. I will tell no one else. I only thought of eet because you mentioned ze dementors."

With that, Hermione took a deep breath and told the tale of their third year, from Harry’s stay in Diagon Alley to the dementors on the train with Professor Lupin. The story of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, the Marauders, and finally Pettigrew's escape. The use of the time turner had Fleur's head spinning, but when Hermione told Fleur about Harry driving off a hundred dementors with his _patronus_ , she almost couldn't believe it.

Fleur looked at Harry intently. He had produced the map as evidence and contributed when Hermione asked, but had looked uncomfortable and embarrassed during the tale. "'Arry, do you know how rare eet eez to do such a thing?"

He replied, "I was told that it is not normal for a third-year to be able to cast the charm, yeah. Professor Lupin seemed really impressed."

Hermione watched as Fleur's eyes narrowed a bit. "'Arry, I do not believe zat anyone az ever driven off a hundred dementors before." She watched as he shifted nervously. "You must know zat you are very remarkable."

Before Harry could deny it, Hermione chimed in. "Harry, don't deny it. I told you first year, remember. You're a great wizard." She smiled at him and met his green eyes. "It's all right to have a little pride, Harry."

Harry laughed a little at that. "Fleur, Hermione knows a bit more of it than you, but I was not raised... very kindly." He looked up fiercely and looked at the two of them. "I am not asking for your pity." He took a moment to calm himself before continuing. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this."

Fleur reached over to take his hand, and Hermione did the same a moment later. "'Arry, zere is a lot 'ere I do not understand, but 'Ermione eez right. You should take pride in yourself." She squeezed his hand and was pleased to note a small smile on his face. "I respect you, 'Arry. I know you have treated me ze same from ze beginning. But zere are very many things we need to talk about."

Hermione and Harry looked at her questioningly. "For one, zis basilisk must be worth a fortune! You could have ze goblins or someone else sell it for you once it is rendered into its valuable components." She gestured at the great beast across the chamber. "For anozzer, I can speak wiz my papa about Sirius eef you like."

Hermione asked, "Your father, Fleur?"

"Papa eez a part of ze magical government of France. 'e eez..." Here Fleur seemed embarrassed. "'e is a very important gentleman. He could ask about Sirius Black's trial discreetly."

"Fleur, I need to ask Sirius first, but thank you." Fleur could see the honest gratitude in his eyes. "I want more than anything for him to be free."

The witch shook her silvery-blonde hair before continuing. "'Arry, also, zees may sound crude, but your family eez very wealthy. Even at 'ome ze Potters were spoken of az a notable family. Have you nozzing of that for yourself?"

Hermione looked thoughtful, but it was Harry who replied. "Well, I have a vault at Gringotts that I have visited a few times since my eleventh birthday, but that's all." He seemed reluctant to continue, so Hermione spoke.

"Harry was raised by his relatives," she ignored the look he was giving her, "and they treat him like a slave. They're muggles and they hate him." She looked at Harry, who did not seem pleased. "Oh Harry you know it's true! Fleur should know! We told her about Sirius already!"

Harry waited a moment before responding, gauging Fleur's reaction. With a start, he realized they were still holding hands when she squeezed his gently and smiled at him. He felt a great deal better. "It's true, Fleur. They do hate me, but I have to return every summer."

Fleur looked very shocked. "But, but why? Surely some ozzer magical family would take you in, oui?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry spoke. "Fleur, it's late. We haven't even looked around the Chamber yet. Let's go to the Room of Requirement tomorrow afternoon and talk some more. Is that all right?"

She wanted to press Harry for more information, but it was getting late and the Chamber was hardly hospitable. She agreed to go, and the trio snuck out of the chamber. After resealing it, Harry called for Dobby's assistance. Fleur leaned in and hugged Harry, which seemed to shock him, before Dobby disapparated with her. Once again she was leaving with her head filled with revelations about Harry Potter.

HPHPHPHP

Harry and Hermione spent the remainder of Saturday evening making sure they had completed their homework in the Gryffindor common room. Ron made his opinion of the pair well known while he enjoyed a game of exploding snap with Seamus, but they steadfastly ignored him. Later, Fred and George dropped by to wish Harry good luck. He appreciated the gesture, but as he expected they still thought he had managed to put his own name into the Goblet of Fire.

Ginny waved at him as she sat down to do what he presumed was her own homework, but did not say anything either to him or her brother. A few moments later Neville came over and addressed Harry.

"Would you mind if I studied with you two?" He looked quite serious and even managed a glare over at Ron.

"Sure Neville, no problem." Harry was rather surprised to see someone come over; people had been keeping their distance for weeks now.

Once he had sat down, Neville leaned forward and addressed them quietly. "I believe that you didn't put your name in the Goblet, Harry.”

Harry was unable to keep his surprise hidden as he replied, "Thanks, Neville. That means a lot to me. I thought Hermione was pretty much the only one who believed me."

"Well," Neville continued, "Most of them don't seem to be too sure, but they're all leaning toward you having done it yourself. Sorry mate," he added as he saw Harry's expression fall. "I just wanted to tell you, since, well, I know how it is to be on the outs, you understand."

As Neville spoke Harry suddenly felt a great sympathy with the young wizard who had stood up to them in first year. "I, well, thanks mate. If you need anything, just ask me or Hermione. I don't see us getting in everyone's good graces anytime soon though."

Hermione listened to Harry and thought suddenly that if it had not been for Quidditch in earlier years, Harry really might have enjoyed a much diminished circle of friends in Gryffindor. If no one had been cheering for him in second year, she wondered, would they have spoken to him at all?

That thought sparked a comment. "Neville," Hermione asked quietly, "You know that I'm muggleborn, and I don't know a lot of things about the magical world, right?"

Neville nodded, unused to Hermione commenting on her own ignorance.

"Well," she continued, "I was wondering what people think about Harry, or rather Harry's family, the Potters."

Harry glanced at her, startled, but did not object.

"Um," Neville began uncertainly, looking to Harry for some sign of whether he should speak, "Well, the Potters at least are a noble house, really old as I understand it. Harry's grandfather was in the Wizengamot with my Gran."

Harry looked interested. "Really Neville? I'd like it if you told me some more; I don't know much about my family."

Neville looked even more surprised than before, but continued after a moment. Hermione looked around and noticed gratefully that no one seemed to be paying any attention to their quiet conversation thanks to the twins' antics over by the dorm stairs.

"Well Harry, I hate to be rude and all, but that's really strange." He paused and looked uncomfortable. "Gran is always going on about my duties to the family, and I know that my family was very close to yours." When Harry gave a nod for him to continue, he sighed. "Harry, to be honest my Gran complains a lot about what happened to you. Not your parents, I mean," Neville said with an expression of pain, "Not your parents, but you. She's sounded really angry about it sometimes, complaining about the headmaster and all."

Hermione remained silent, but gave a significant look at Harry. Harry looked back at Neville. "What does she say, Neville? You won't make me upset or anything, really. I just don't have any idea what's going on."

Neville shifted in his chair uncomfortably and looked around before dropping his voice further. "Harry, she says that Dumbledore was a fool to make you go with your muggle relatives. She says-" Here he bit his lip and whispered, "She says Dumbledore is trying to keep you in line, for himself." When they looked on with perfect astonishment, he also whispered, "I don't think Gran is very happy about what happened, Harry. I don't think she is very happy about it at all."

Harry leaned back, amazed. It was just Neville's Gran's word, and secondhand at that, but the idea that Dumbledore was keeping him 'in line,' keeping things from him? It made him reflect on things he had simply taken for granted. Surely his parents were not stupid? Surely they must have had something in mind for him, knowing that Voldemort was out there?  A will, a guardian perhaps?

Hermione, too, was shocked into silence. Her mind raced with possibilities; how wealthy was Harry? If he was so wealthy, why had he been raised the way he had? Why had no friend of Harry Potter ever sent him a birthday gift, or even a card full of well-wishes on the day of his parents' deaths? Why be raised by his muggle relatives at all? Why had no one ever checked up on him? He was the hero of the wizarding world; every single person knew his name and his story, everyone attributed strange powers to him, expected great things of him. He was never unnoticed. But at Hogwarts distrust had seemed to follow him with no hesitation; why?

"Neville," she asked, "Do people think of Harry differently because of the way he was raised? Because he knew nothing of the magical world?"

Here Neville looked to be even more uncomfortable than before. "Well, um, Harry, I don't mean to say that I think this, but I know that some people do, all right? But not me, and not Gran. All right?" He waited for Harry to nod, but was not heartened by the apprehension he saw on his face. "People talk about how strange it is, about how you're not what people expect, about your clothes, about how you are never seen with other magical people, about how you didn't know about your parents." There was a hint of panic in his eyes as he saw Harry getting angry. "Harry, not me! I think you're a really good guy, even though Hermione did petrify me back then. You've always been a good friend. You never treated me any differently from anyone else, either."

Harry still felt angry about what Neville had said. Judging him? Yet more of the same spectacle he was used to. Of course he was ashamed of his clothes, and his relatives, and living in a cupboard! How could he not be? But Neville's final comment left him feeling better.

"I understand, Nev. Thanks for telling me. I never really understood, you know? I never had a choice. Maybe Dumbledore never gave me one." His expression turned a little bitter. Dumbledore, not trustworthy? He felt the foundation of his world growing a bit less steady as he recalled the headmaster's stark disapproval in the hall before the Goblet.

He heard Hermione asking Neville, "Is there anything else that your Gran told you?" That was when the memory hit him like a hammer.

"Anything else... was there anything else he told me..." He muttered while Neville and Hermione looked on.

" _Sir, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about..."_

" _The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."_

" _Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"_

_Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time._

" _Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older ... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."_

"Dumbledore knows. He knows why Voldemort is after me. He _must_ know well more than that. He must know that I could have been fostered in the magical world. He knows." Harry's voice was dark. He briefly related the conversation he had recalled from first year.

Neville looked on with wide eyes. Hermione looked gravely concerned. "Neville, please don't tell anyone what we talked about, all right?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded.

"Thanks Neville. I know we can trust you." Harry grinned at him.

"I won't let you down, either of you." Neville sounded a lot better than he had a few moments before.

Hermione looked around the common room again before speaking. "OK you two. How about some studying?"

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The following morning saw Harry, Hermione, and Neville studying in the library with Luna. After lunch, Harry and Hermione made excuses to the pair and headed off to the Room of Requirement, greeting Viktor Krum in the hallway near the library as they left.

Harry had the room made into a seating space adjacent to a large training area. Fleur joined them as Hermione was coaching Harry on transfiguration. Fleur offered her own pointers and soon Harry's pincushion was looking very much like a pincushion and very little like a hedgehog.

Hermione's, naturally, was already flawless.

After they sat down to tea Hermione summarized their discussion with Neville from the evening before. Fleur listened with an expression of frustration when she heard about Harry's meeting with the headmaster back in first year.

"So Voldemort eez after you, zen? But you 'ave not been told why?"

Harry sighed. "I think so, Fleur. I really don't want to think that Dumbledore is, well, not acting in my interests, but I have to wonder."

"From what Neville told us, Harry's family must at least have a house or something somewhere. Why should he have to return to those awful people every summer?" Hermione said with an irritated expression.

Fleur looked at the boy-who-lived. "You do not want to go back zere, do you 'Arry?"

"Of course not!" He exclaimed. "I wish I never had to see them again. If my family has a house somewhere I'd be much happier being there alone than with the Dursleys all summer. In fact," he said more thoughtfully, "the only reason I did go back is because I never thought there was any other option. Going to Hogwarts had made my life so much better anyway..." His voice trailed off.

"'Arry," Fleur began placatingly, "Eef you like I can ask my papa to find out about ze Potters. 'e should be able to discover something for you."

"Thanks, Fleur. And thanks for, well, respecting my privacy about this. I don't really like attention."

Hermione snorted. "It seems to like you well enough, Harry."

"Speaking of zat, 'Arry, have you been told of ze weighing ceremony?" Fleur inquired.

He looked surprised. "No, I haven't. Why do I think that this was going to be one of those things I found out at the last minute?"

"Ze wand weighing, eet will be zis Friday, in ze afternoon. I am not sure where; do you want me to let you know when I find out?"

"Please," he replied. "I'm sure I won't know otherwise."

Rather than dwell further on the impending task, they chose to chat and study. As it turned out, Fleur was a student of runes as a part of her work on ward emplacements, so she and Hermione had a great conversation which for once Harry could actually follow.

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The next week saw Harry worrying not only about the upcoming task, but the more immediate threat of the mysterious ceremony. He made sure his wand was clean, but he really had no idea what else he could do to prepare.

The other students were mostly about as intolerable as they had been, and Harry was trying his best to ignore it. When Fleur notified them via owl that she was being cooped up all week by Madame Maxime, and therefore would not be available for a visit before the weekend, Harry found his courage slipping.

Friday in Flitwick's Charms class Harry found himself totally unable to focus on summoning, but he took heart from the smile Hermione gave him when he asked her for assistance over the weekend.

That afternoon he had yet to hear from Fleur, and marched on to double Potions with resignation. Maybe they would just forget about him; that would be a nice change. As they approached the classroom, he immediately understood that he was not going to be forgotten anytime soon.

Every Slytherin in the hallway outside Snape's classroom was sporting a large badge on their robes that read 'Support Cedric Diggory, the REAL Hogwarts Champion.' The Slytherins' matching grins were nearly enough to make him sick.

Then Draco stepped forward. "Like them, Potter? And this isn't all they do, look!"

He pressed the badge and Harry watched the message change to a luminous green text that read 'POTTER STINKS.' He sneered and turned his head, and felt his jaw tighten uncomfortably while he fought the urge to retort. Luckily, Hermione did it for him.

"Oh very funny. Very witty, all of you," she said. Harry noticed Ron laughing along with the Slytherins, though not as loudly.

"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a mudblood sliming it up."

That proved to be about all Harry could tolerate. He turned to Draco to retort, but Hermione managed to restrain him. Around them, everyone else was getting out of the way.

"Come on then, Potter! Too much of a coward? Don't want the mudblood to kick you out of her bed tonight?"

Harry stepped forward and shook Hermione off his arm. As he did so, Draco called out " _Densaugeo!_ " Harry neatly sidestepped the curse and grabbed Draco by his robes. It was altogether satisfying to throw him up against the wall and watch the boy's face go pale when Harry held him off the ground.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy-" But Harry was interrupted by two things. One was Hermione's cry, which caused him to drop Draco and turn around. The second was the figure of Severus Snape walking his way.

"Well, Potter, and what are you doing brawling like a muggle? Care to explain?"

Harry ignored him and looked at Hermione, whose front teeth were expanding at an alarming rate, and painfully it seemed. "Hermione, are you all-"

"Potter! Answer me!" Snape hissed.

"He just attacked me out of the blue, sir," Draco said, getting up from the floor with a carefully neutral expression.

"He cursed Hermione!" Harry yelled, pointing at his friend.

Snape took a long look at the weeping girl, whose teeth were by this time nearing her collar. "I see no difference," he said coldly.

Hermione turned and ran off toward the hospital wing. Harry was livid and moved to follow her when Snape stopped him.

"Potter! Where do you think you're going?"

He smirked as he studied Harry calmly. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, and detention for assaulting another student like a muggle. Now get in the classroom or I'll make it a week's worth."

Harry was almost, _almost_ angry enough to say something else to Snape. He could not even remember the last time he had been so furious. When he walked into class Ron looked away, leaving him alone at the potions table. Harry sat down shaking with rage as Malfoy once again flashed his badge at him. At the head of the class, Snape began announcing that he would be testing their antidotes on a student.

His hands were beginning to hurt from clutching the table's edge when a knock resounded through the room, and the door opened.

In the doorway was Fleur Delacour.

"Yes," Snape called out, clearly irritated.

"I am 'ere to retrieve Meester Potter for business with ze Triwizard Tournament," she announced as the boys in the class began to stare at her.

"Potter has the remainder of this class to complete, and he will not be leaving until it is over," Snape replied coldly.

Fleur took another step into the classroom, unperturbed. "Meester Bagman has said he will come now." She gazed unflinchingly at the potions master.

"Very well," Snape grumbled after breaking eye contact. "Get out of here, Potter. Detention tomorrow night."

Without a word, Harry nodded gratefully at Fleur, gathered his things, and left the room. He waited to speak until they were down the hallway. "Sorry Fleur. Snape had just done something really terrible in the hallway. I was so angry I... He let Malfoy get away with hexing Hermione, and then gave me a detention.  I couldn’t even make sure she made it to the hospital wing. "

Fleur put her hand on his arm to comfort him, and Harry relaxed after a moment. "Thanks, thanks for that, and for coming to get me." His green eyes met hers in gratitude.

She felt a light flush color her cheeks before she replied, "Of course, 'Arry. I asked Bagman eef I could get you for 'im." Fleur frowned a bit before continuing. "'Arry, zere is a reporter and a photographer zere."

"Ugh," he groused. "I hope they forget about me. You're much better fare for a photo, Fleur." His small smile and the laugh in his eyes made her respond in kind.

"You're not zo bad yourself, 'Arry Potter." Harry felt a measure of the self-esteem that had been running away from him all week return as she flashed a smile at him.

They walked into the room Fleur indicated quite companionably, which did not go unnoticed by a certain heavy-jawed, bespectacled reporter.

Rita Skeeter watched Harry Potter and the Beauxbatons champion with great interest.

Bagman greeted Harry and introduced him to Skeeter, and described the wand weighing ceremony. Skeeter looked at Harry as though she were ready to drag him away to a broom closet.

"I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start? The youngest champion, you know... to add a bit of color?" Harry frowned at her over-eager tone.

Bagman was only too happy to agree, but Fleur had other ideas.

"Oh no Miss Skeeter, I must protest!" Fleur tilted her head in condescension. "I was to 'ave a nice chat wiz 'Arry myself while we wait for ze 'eadmaster. Anozzer time perhaps?" The French girl smiled brilliantly, incidentally distracting Bagman, and took Harry's arm to lead him away to be seated before the witch could reply.

Harry leaned a little close to whisper, "Thanks, Fleur. I have a bad feeling about reporters; the _Daily Prophet_ is pretty unreliable."

Fleur colored a bit at Harry's tone and his nearness. "Of course 'Arry. My papa always warned me about such witches."

The pair chatted amiably while Skeeter looked on in mixed anger and contemplation. Viktor sat silently, reading a book, while Cedric just observed the pair with interest, every few moments seeming to shake his head to stop staring.

Finally Dumbledore entered with the judges and a man Harry recognized as Mr. Ollivander.

Fleur was called first. Ollivander commented briefly on her wand. "Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches... inflexible... rosewood... and containing... dear me..."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

So Fleur's grandmother, at least, was a full veela. Harry thought this very interesting; he hoped they were getting close enough that he might ask a bit about it; it was clear that she was a little uncomfortable with her allure.

"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands... however, to each his own, and if this suits you..."

Harry found Ollivander's remarks to be rather insulting, although he noted that Fleur was not saying anything about it. He resolved to ask her later.

When it was his turn, Ollivander took an inordinate amount of time fussing over Harry's wand, making him recall all the wands he had gone through before taking this one, the one whose core matched the core of Voldemort's own.

Harry personally was very fond of his wand, and was only too pleased that Ollivander refrained from mentioning Voldemort; he suspected Skeeter would be all over that revelation. Finally it ended, but they were unfortunately made to pose for photos, as Fleur had mentioned.

It ended up being mostly a fight between Skeeter dragging him to the front and the photographer pulling Fleur into the same position, which led to the two of them staring at each other in amusement while everyone else sat by, bored.

Eventually they were released to go down to dinner, and Harry for once had the pleasure of walking there with Fleur. Sadly Hermione was not present- probably still under Madam Pomfrey's care- but Harry did enjoy dinner next to Fleur. They had, after all, made no decisions about not being friendly in public.

Ron looked on Harry chattering merrily with Fleur with alternating disgust and jealousy, whenever he wasn't hit with veela allure. Down the table the Weasley twins were astonished at the young Potter's ease with the gorgeous girl. Others around the hall were thinking much the same thing.

After bidding her good night, then making a visit to see Hermione asleep in the hospital wing, Harry returned to find a letter from Sirius waiting for him, and after reading it, eagerly wrote a reply indicating that he would be in the common room at the appointed time for a talk.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Four

AN: Thanks to all my readers for the enthusiastic response and criticisms. I can't say how excited I have been to see all the reviews and follows that have been appearing in my inbox. I hope you enjoy this entry as well!

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**"Humility is the only virtue that schoolboys demand of one another." - Edward Lyttleton**

On Saturday Fleur received a most unpleasant surprise in the form of an article in the _Daily Prophet_ , delivered by an entirely smug classmate while she was still getting ready for the day. The article, supposedly about the Triwizard Tournament, was instead a sort of mournful diatribe about the brave but tragically unhappy Harry Potter, who was currently being torn away from his solidly British muggleborn girlfriend Hermione Granger by the vile supernatural beauty of one Fleur Delacour, French veela.

The article was filled with quotations purportedly from Harry about him weeping daily over the memory of his parents, along with selected lines from various students who seemed to stop just short of calling Fleur a whore. Fleur was almost ill reading over the article when the heavy hand of Madame Maxime fell on her shoulder.

"Come with me, Miss Delacour." The voice was tight with restrained anger.

Maxime led her to her private seating area away from the whispers and remarks of the other girls. She proceeded to inform Fleur in no uncertain terms that this was her fault for getting close to the boy, and that she ought to have just remained aloof to better restrain her allure. It was clear that Madame Maxime was taking the story very personally; Fleur, knowing that this issue was more Maxime's obsessive fear of her own heritage than Fleur's own, simply decided to let her yell herself hoarse.

While she ignored the headmistress, Fleur thought of her two friends in the castle. She was sure that both Hermione and Harry were going to be tormented because of the article, and could not help but feel a bit guilty about it. She hoped that they would not blame her. Fortunately there was little that Madame Maxime could do to prevent her contacting them, thanks not only to Dobby and the Room of Requirement but also to Fleur's own not inconsiderable talents at evasion. Plus, if Maxime thought she was being flippant and disobedient before, just wait until she had to see the real thing.

Hearing Maxime drone on about pride and her parents, Fleur suddenly had a flash of insight. She could write to her parents! With evidence of real abuse by the press, she was sure that her father would help Harry and give her the chance to curtail Maxime's criticisms in the bargain. While she doubted that a retraction would stop the rumors, she suspected that it would at least be enough to get people questioning things.

Most importantly though, she could hardly ignore Harry Potter and Hermione Granger in public now. After all, leaving a rumor unchecked was like leaving a garden untended. Fleur almost grinned with that thought. She hoped they could manage to sustain their friendship through this, and with any luck it might even bring them closer together.

Listening as Maxime finally ended her tirade to ask her what she had to say for herself, Fleur thought that she was definitely going to need a little support of her own. She would be headed to the Room of Requirement at the first opportunity.

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Hermione Granger was exhausted when she reached the Room of Requirement that afternoon. She had spent the morning dealing with snickering and false sympathy wherever she went, and being near Harry was only making it worse. Some people took to reading the article aloud, or at least quoting the especially melodramatic sections.

The other Gryffindors offered sympathy, but again seemed to have no idea what was really going on. Some thought Hermione and Harry were actually in a relationship; others claimed that they weren't and that Fleur was after Harry's fame; yet others seemed to think it some ploy to frustrate Harry's attempts to win the tournament.

After a few hours, Harry had finally had enough and left her in the library alone to go flying before his detention. She suspected he needed some time to himself, and at least he could fly unchecked and unmolested before Snape grounded him in the dungeons for who knew how long.

They had earlier decided to make sure to limit their use of the Room of Requirement so as not to arouse suspicion, but today Hermione felt she had waited long enough. Even the library was no safe haven from the stares and snarky comments. A few people had even thrown things at her!

It was primary school all over again; Hermione had hoped she had left it behind her when she first came to Hogwarts, and then again on the night that she watched Harry bravely leap onto a troll's back, but it seemed there was no dodging ridicule forever. Hermione Granger appeared to be a target for such attention.

And Harry, she thought. Poor Harry. He simply could not catch a break.

The young witch entered the Room of Requirement noting that the door appeared instantly, meaning that someone was already inside and implicitly or explicitly giving her permission to enter. As she expected, it was Fleur.

The beautiful French girl was pacing back and forth in a comfortable little sitting room before a bright fire. She looked up as Hermione entered, apprehension apparent in her expression. Hermione was struck by the thought that although she had seen Fleur display much emotion, she seemed unaccountably, ethereally gorgeous no matter what expression she made, no matter what she was feeling. Where Hermione would imagine her own weeping as a childish, messy affair, she was certain that Fleur's would be a scene of heartbreaking beauty.

It was a bit of a blow to her already low self-esteem, and Hermione said nothing as she sat down before the fire, frowning.

Beside her Fleur had stopped pacing and looked at the younger girl with real concern. "'Ermione, I do not know what to say about zis article. I am sure zat you are being treated badly because of eet; I 'ope you may forgive me." Fleur sat down beside Hermione and waited for a response.

A moment later, Hermione sighed and turned to face her. "Of course I forgive you, Fleur, it's hardly as though it were your fault in any case. I mean if anyone's to blame it's that cursed Skeeter woman, or the editor of the _Prophet_ , or Bagman or the headmaster for not checking their copy before they printed it." Hermione was on a roll now, hardly even focusing on Fleur. "They should have stopped them from printing all that nonsense and nipped the trouble before it started! A bunch of weepy lines that Harry never even said, he told me so himself. And the rest of it, I mean, I mean it's not as though it were true, any of it, right? Harry's no top student, and he and I aren't at all a couple, and, and you're none of the terrible things that article implied about you, and you certainly aren't interested in-"

Her voice broke off wavering from the monologue as she looked at Fleur with her lower lip trembling.

"You aren't interested in Harry, are you? Not that way, right? He's younger, and he's really very silly sometimes, and, well..." When Fleur merely looked worried and said nothing, Hermione asked again, more franticly this time. "Fleur, you're not are you? Tell me, Fleur!"

Fleur twisted her hands together and looked toward the fire with a nervous expression. Again, even through the haze of her own anxiety, Hermione could not help but notice that Fleur looked beautiful.

"'Ermione, I 'ave told you a little about being a veela, yes?" Fleur continued to look into the flames as she spoke. "Eet eez more difficult when you are young, my maman tells me. When I was a very small girl zere was no trouble, and not very much more until I turned thirteen." Hermione calmed down a bit as Fleur continued to speak, obviously very unhappy with the memory.

"Suddenly men were very attentive, zey started to try to get close to me. My papa and maman were careful, and kept me from them mostly, but maman told me zat eet was worse wiz me zan it 'ad been wiz 'er." Here Fleur turned to look at her friend. "Eet was not 'orrible; I 'ad little Gabrielle and my parents, some ozzer family as well. But eet was very lonely. My maman said zat I might wait a long time to find someone I felt zat way about, who was not pulled too powerfully by my veela side."

Hermione listened silently.

"When I saw 'Arry in ze great hall zat first night, 'e seemed very cute; I liked his eyes. But when 'e did not respond to ze allure, I was very interested." She bit her lip before continuing. "All ze things I have learned about him, ze way he acts wiz ze both of us, his bravery, ze pieces of zat childhood 'e speaks of..." She took a deep breath and looked directly into Hermione's eyes.

"Yes, 'Ermione, I am interested in 'Arry Potter. Seriously interested."

Hermione's composure broke with that, and she felt tears run down her face. Fleur, Fleur Delacour wanted Harry? How could she ever compete with that?  She wasn't even brave enough to admit her own feelings! The pressure of the day returned with full force and Hermione started sobbing.

Fleur reached out a hesitant hand to her friend's shoulder as she felt herself crying as well. "'Ermione, I know you want him as well. I can see eet, even if he 'az not yet." She paused a moment and then continued. "I do not want to lose a very good friend, 'Ermione Granger."

The brown-haired witch looked into Fleur's eyes. "Oh I don't either, Fleur! This whole year has been just me and Harry, it feels like everyone's against us. You're the best girl friend I've ever had!" Hermione pressed her lips together and cried out, "But how am I supposed to compete with you, Fleur? How? I've lost Harry before I even started..." With that, she started to move away before Fleur took Hermione's face in her hands and gently turned her to look toward her again.

"That will be _his_ decision to make, not yours or mine. I have never done this before, and you are his best friend. _Do not_ count yourself out, Hermione."

Hermione heard the intense passion in Fleur's reply as she switched to her native language. She sniffled and put her hands over her friend’s before responding in kind. "Thank you, Fleur. I don't know whether it will work, but I want to be your friend. I truly do not want to lose that _._ "

"Then we will not," came Fleur's reply.

"Friends?" Offered Hermione softly as she looked into the beautiful witch's dark blue eyes.

"Oui, friends we shall remain," replied Fleur.

Hermione leaned in and hugged the other girl close, letting out a small laugh as she buried her face in Fleur's hair. "I've been so afraid all day, and now I just feel so much better."

The older girl smiled as she hugged Hermione closer. "As do I, 'Ermione. Thank you."

A while later, after both girls had taken time to calm down and wash their faces, Winky brought them tea. The elf was very pleased to see her somewhat reticent new mistress engaged with the older witch, and enjoyed talking with them herself at the young mistress’s invitation. The girls spent the remainder of the day in conversation about what to do regarding Skeeter's article. Fleur resolved to wait until they could speak with Harry before making any decisions about contacting her father. As for the other matter, both Fleur and Hermione were going to see whether Harry noticed anything.

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Harry woke up Sunday to an empty dormitory and complete silence. He was not surprised that he had slept in; after the absolutely awful day of dealing with mocking, teasing comments from every quarter, Snape had had him pickling rat brains until well after curfew. When he finally went to bed after approximately an hour of showering, he had even then found it difficult to fall asleep.

Hermione had been visibly miserable all day and Harry was sure that Fleur must be humiliated by Skeeter's article as well. He'd left Hermione in the library to fly his firebolt for a while, as much to have some time by himself as he did to let her get away from him. Overall, he could not help but think that Hermione would be better off being friends with someone else. It was either ridicule or deadly danger, or that time last year when he'd gotten angry with her for sending his broomstick to McGonagall without telling him.

Even then, she had just been looking out for him.

For better or for worse though, he had to assume that Hermione was going to stick with him even if it would be better for her not to; she was just a loyal person that way. As for Fleur, well, Harry did not hold out much hope. She would likely be better off being friends with Hermione than him, but the article probably chucked that as well.

Harry hauled himself out of bed and took another shower to hopefully remove the remaining odor of pickled rat brains, then dressed and prepared to face the taunting which was surely waiting outside. To minimize that, and to give himself something to do, Harry elected to head to the library. At the very least it would be quiet there, and he would be able to get ahead on his homework.

He really was not looking forward to seeing Hermione and Fleur mocked on his behalf. Bad enough to deal with comments about his parents, but slurs against the two girls were far harder to take with patience.

Conversation in the common room ground to a halt as he descended the dormitory stairwell, and he tried not to react. He was glad to see that it was at least mostly underclassmen; they wouldn't want to call him out for anything.

He was heckled a little as he made his way to Madam Pince's domain, but it was really no worse than it had been the day before. He made his way to an empty table near one of the corners and set to work on his latest Potions essay. He was actually finding the silence and focus on work to be very calming when he heard someone sit down across from him. Looking up nervously he saw that it was the third-year Ravenclaw from his Runes class, Luna.

When she said nothing, he decided to greet her. "Hello Luna. Want to work on Runes together?" He felt quite happy to see her nod in reply and unpack her own homework.

They had been working silently for a few moments when she asked him something about the _ethel_ rune and its employment in non-warding arrangements. He leaned over and answered her question, which led to him retrieving his own notes as well as Hermione's, plus a supplementary muggle text she had found about comparative philology. Recalling Hermione's assurance when she presented it to him that the book was "an _incredible_ read," he smiled softly.

Luna looked over with a smile of her own. "I am glad to see you smiling, Harry. I know it is very hard, but don't forget that some people think very highly of you."

He glanced at her earnest expression and smiled a bit more broadly. "I, well thanks Luna. I really appreciate it. But I hope I can say you're my friend."

Luna brightened considerably as she replied, "Oh I hope so too, Harry. I've really very very few of those." She paused a moment and broke eye contact to look over his shoulder.

"Luna," he said, trying to catch her attention, "If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know, all right? I'll do my best to help."

"Never so down that you can't offer a hand to a friend, that's you all right, Harry."

Harry froze for a moment when he heard Hermione's voice behind him, and turned hesitantly to face her as she sat down next to him. To his great surprise, Hermione seemed very happy, with no trace of the intense stress from yesterday in her eyes.

"Hermione," he said softly, "I, well, I'm sorry for running off yesterday. I just thought you might want some time away from me." He looked down at his books.

"I know I can ask you for help, Harry. I trust you." Luna's voice called softly.

"I just needed some time, Harry. I worked some things out with-" Hermione stopped speaking as she glanced at Luna. She took a long look before continuing. "With Fleur. We can talk to her later today, all right?"

Harry looked at her with obvious distress, "She wants to talk to me?"

"Yes, Harry. You didn't write the article, you know," Hermione answered smartly. She started to unpack her own books, but then stopped and took one of his hands. "Don't worry, Harry. Really."

He squeezed her hand. "I'll try not to. I'm just glad you're both not mad at me."

At this Luna had to roll her eyes. "Spectacular complex you've got there, Harry. But I suppose it _is_ better to worry about Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger than Ron Weasley."

Harry caught something of a darker note in her voice when she spoke of Ron. "Do you not like Ron, Luna?"

Luna looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable before replying, "I live near his family, in Ottery-St. Catchpole. When we were small, he's the one who nicknamed me." Her eyes narrowed. " _Loony_ , you know." With that revealed, she closed her eyes for a moment before returning to her normal, unconcerned expression.

Hermione looked at Luna, frowning. "Is that what your friends call you, Luna?"

"Of course not. Didn't you just hear Harry?" She motioned toward the black-haired boy who was watching her with concern in his eyes. "My friends call me Luna."

At this Hermione leaned back a bit and smiled. "Luna, I hope I can be your friend too. That is, if you want to be friends with a pariah."

"Like attracts like. Well, sometimes anyway. But yes, I'd rather like to be your friend Hermione." Luna shuffled her feet like a small girl as she bent toward the table, smiling.

HPHPHPHP

It was a productive morning. Viktor Krum had looked very curiously at them in the library when he entered, but said nothing apart from "hello." Potions, Runes, and Transfiguration were handled quite well by the time Hermione stood and advised Harry that they should leave soon.

Luna quirked an eyebrow curiously, but then pointed out that it was merely an effective way of dismissing nearby wrackspurts. She asked for no further details, but did tell Harry to "be mindful of his cases, since the genitive plural is a rather sticky declension."

Neither Hermione no Harry commented on that one as they made their way toward the seventh floor, discreetly consulting the Maurauder's Map. When the coast was clear Hermione had the Room become a familiar little sitting room with a table.

Winky popped in to provide a late lunch, and departed with Hermione's abundant praise in her ears. Hermione was bound and determined that the little elf should live a good life, and was still nervous about making Winky unhappy.

Despite Hermione's exhortations about his concerns, Harry still found himself nibbling nervously on a sandwich, wondering when Fleur was going to arrive. It wasn't as though he _wanted_ Fleur to dislike him, but he thought that Hermione was perhaps being a bit too charitable. If Fleur was to be linked with someone romantically, he imagined that she would cut a better figure alongside Cedric Diggory than himself.

Even as he thought of it, though, he heard the characteristic pop of Dobby apparating, and then Fleur had her arms around his neck.

"Oh 'Arry, I am so sorry that you 'ave to deal wiz zat awful article." She sounded very contrite, and Harry could not help but blush at the unaccustomed contact.

"Fleur, no, I'm the one who should be apologizing." He turned a little to face her better, noticing that they were at eye level since she had leaned over to hug him. He stared directly into her dark blue eyes for a moment before speaking again. "I, I'm sure it must be really embarrassing to have those things printed about you, especially since people said such insulting things." His eyes blazed with fury when he recalled the implications of the article. "Like anyone would need to be enraptured to be attracted to you! And I couldn't believe what Pansy Parkinson said about you..." His voice trailed off in the double realization of what he had just admitted, and also that he was furiously gesturing with the forgotten sandwich while Fleur still had her arms around him.

Harry looked very apprehensive for a moment before Hermione burst out laughing behind him and then put her arms around him as well, shaking with mirth. Fleur's eyes danced merrily for a moment before she followed suit and began giggling as well.

He couldn't help it; Harry laughed at himself. It was hard to feel too bad about it with both witches hanging on him.

When they had stopped laughing, both girls hesitated a moment, then pulled away from him at the same time. Harry spoke first after carefully depositing the sandwich onto his plate.

"Thanks girls, I feel better now." He smiled gratefully, first at Fleur, then at Hermione.

"So," he began nervously after they had all sat down. "I'm definitely glad to have my two best friends around, so I don't think we should try to avoid each other or anything." He looked up with a serious expression in his eyes. "We haven't done anything wrong."

Hermione smiled, then nodded over at Fleur, who replied, "I agree. If you two are to be my friends, zen we should not 'ide it!"

"The truth will out," Hermione commented.

"'Arry, my papa eez a man whom people respect. I would like to send 'im an owl about zis article and 'ave them apologize."

"Would they do that, Fleur? Really?" Harry sounded quite surprised.

"Yes, zey would eef your Ministry of Magic were to make zem." Fleur grinned.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Even more so if a certain Harry Potter wrote a nice letter informing them that he was misquoted, right?"

Harry was uncertain. "What if they just rip the letter to pieces and print what they want again? I don't want to start any more trouble for you two, and especially not your father, Fleur."

"Papa is a politician, 'Arry. And I can assure you zat he will be most pleased to defend his daughter's honor," Fleur stated confidently. "When he talks to ze Minister, 'e will be sure to say zat your response is to be part of ze apology."

"What do you think, Hermione? Will it work?"

The girl looked thoughtful as she responded, "I imagine so, Harry. Offering an exclusive letter from you would be a boon to their readership in any case, and they can always just blame the reporter for any inaccuracies. If they only care about selling papers then this should be fine with them."

Harry nodded. "All right. As long as we can get them to stop saying those terrible things about Fleur."

Fleur smiled. "Zen I will send an owl tomorrow. I 'ave already asked 'im to look into your family, 'Arry."

"Hopefully we can find out the truth," Hermione said. "Anyway, in the meantime, what do you want to do? We usually meet in here; do you want to meet up in the library or something too, so people will see us being, well, normal around each other?"

Harry looked at Hermione, then at Fleur, and could not help but blush a little as he replied, "Well I'd have to be pretty stupid to turn down more time with you two."

Hermione turned rather red herself and looked at her shoes. Fleur smiled at him. "He's good at zis, isn't he 'Ermione."

"Fleur," Harry began, clearly feeling shy, "What about Madame Maxime?"

"Hmph," Fleur noted dismissively. "Since I am ze school champion, all she can really do eez make noise. Eet would be more embarrassing for 'er if I was kept away from everyone now."

"No one has talked to you about this, right Harry? Dumbledore I mean?" Hermione inquired.

"Of course not," he replied. "Once again I'm left alone."

"No, you are not, 'Arry. You 'ave both of us." Fleur gestured to Hermione.

"We'll get through this together, Harry," Hermione said confidently. "Now, why don't we plan to just be courteous and greet each other this week, and maybe study in the library a bit?"

"Zat sounds very nice to me. What do you think, 'Arry?"

Harry was quick to reply as a rather striking idea had come to him. "That's great, but Fleur, Hermione, do you want to go with me to Hogsmeade this Saturday?" He looked very excited for a moment before the implication of what he'd asked dawned on him. "I mean, you know, as friends. To spend some time together." He looked a little nervous now.

Hermione had looked a bit shocked, but her expression quickly turned to amusement. "Fleur, usually the older students take a visit to Hogsmeade as something of a date." She commented amusedly to the other witch.

The French girl smiled impishly. "Really? Zen once more 'Arry Potter 'az shown zat 'e eez quite ze brave man, oui?"

Now it was Harry's turn to glance downward before Hermione offered her reassurances. "Of course we'll both go with you, Harry. After all, who could refuse such a bold offer?"

Fleur laughed musically and Hermione joined her. _Perhaps this little competition need not be too terrible just yet_ , she reflected happily. For now, at least everything seemed to be coming along well.

"Enough teasing for now, you two?" Harry replied with a grin of his own. "I could use a bit of help with my summoning charms work, if you wouldn't mind too much."

HPHPHPHP

Ginny Weasley was perplexed. It was difficult enough being the youngest of her enormous family, strange enough to be immune from Fred and George's pranking, and frustrating enough to have a crush on Harry Potter.

And that was before everything seemed to go completely off the rails.

When her brother Ron had barged into the Gryffindor common room swearing up a storm about Harry Potter and his attitude problem, Ginny had sighed with annoyance but was not completely surprised. It was hardly the first time Ron had had a row with Harry; she assumed it would blow over soon enough.

She could hardly have been more wrong.

The rumors of Harry shouting in Mad-Eye Moody's face and throwing off the _Imperious_ curse were a bit frightening; she had it on good authority that the rumor was not very far from the truth either. While others whispered about Harry's mysterious adventure two years previous, Ginny refrained from commenting. She was still unwilling to really talk about the ordeal.

This had the unfortunate side effect of allowing rumors to spread unchecked, but Ginny would hardly have been able to stop them in any case. As it became clear that Harry and Hermione had split from her brother and were not interested in making it up with him, Ginny had not really known how to react.

Harry's selection as a Triwizard Champion did nothing but exacerbate matters; Ron was angrier and she was still more confused. Harry claimed that he had not put his name in, but what other explanation could there be? She did not want to believe that he was the showboat that Ron claimed, but in the end she was too afraid to approach him about it.

She was also too busy with her new third-year course load. Ginny had been surprised to hear her Ravenclaw friend Luna Lovegood mention in passing that Harry Potter was in her Ancient Runes class with the Hufflepuffs; she rather wished she could be in it too, instead of with the Slytherins.

But really, nothing this year had prepared her for the article that debuted in the _Daily Prophet_. She did not want to believe, and indeed did not think, that Hermione Granger was dating Harry Potter. But Fleur Delacour? Ginny's schoolgirl heart froze at the thought of the radiantly beautiful blond witch courting Harry.

She wouldn't have a hope of competing against _that_.

Consequently she was disposed to disbelieve the story for her own peace of mind. Events, however, seemed to show that Rita Skeeter may have hit closer to the mark than she had thought.

Monday saw Harry Potter dining with Hermione Granger on his left and Fleur Delacour on his right, chatting amiably while every single person in the great hall looked on, speechless.

And it was hardly an isolated incident.

They were to be seen greeting each other courteously in the halls, studying in the library, and even walking about the grounds in each others' company. Ginny was never so concerned for her as-yet-unfulfilled crush as she had been that week.

Then Wednesday had come, and she was nearly driven under the table in shame when a pair of smoking red howlers landed in the hall before Hermione Granger and Fleur Delacour. Both of them were from Molly Weasley.

Harry successfully managed to silence them halfway through a string of enraged accusations by means of a bowl of porridge and another of pudding before leading the shocked pair of girls outside. The damage, however, had been done.

Anarchy reigned in Hogwarts as complete confusion about the relationship between Harry, Hermione, and the Beauxbatons champion was the order of the day. The one answer that no one was willing to accept was that they were just friends.

Ginny was too embarrassed to confront Harry about it, and too nervous to ask Hermione for the truth. She did suspect, however, that a letter from Ron had prompted her mother's response. She planned to pass this information along as a peace offering for some conversation with Harry and Hermione in Hogsmeade, if possible. She expected that they would likely be there together.

Ginny Weasley found that weekend that she was at least partly correct.

HPHPHPHP

Harry stood outside the castle in the brisk morning air on 21 November feeling rather happy, all things considered. The week had gone quite well since the trio had elected to make no secret of the fact that they were on friendly terms with one another. Taunts and jeers had been largely reduced in number under the sheer weight of astonishment.

Harry liked to think that no one had expected him to actually be friends with Fleur Delacour; that Hermione Granger might be he imagined people found equally unlikely.

Nevertheless the students and faculty seemed forced to accept the obvious truth: Harry spent a large part of his time in polite conversation with his best friend - the girl who was known to be the cleverest witch at Hogwarts - and also with the most drop-dead gorgeous witch any of them had ever seen.

_Ron must be infuriated_ , Harry thought to himself resignedly.

The howlers from Mrs. Weasley on Wednesday had reignited the jeering from some quarters (notably the badgers and the snakes), but again his actions seemed to leave people wondering. In his own mind, Harry was feeling pretty good about it. Even the looming first task was unable to dislodge the tremendous sense of satisfaction he got from burying the howlers and making sure that both Hermione and Fleur were smiling when they left.

He smiled again just thinking of it.

Still, there were those who suspected it was a put-on. Fleur had confided that Madame Maxime had abandoned any attempts at corralling her after she received an owl from M. Charles Maurice Delacour. The rumor, presumably being spread covertly by the same headmistress, was that Fleur was being instructed to demonstrate good fellowship in the face of the article's accusations.

Harry had even managed to pen his letter to the _Prophet_ with Fleur and Hermione looking over his shoulder; it was supposed to come out sometime soon once Fleur's father finalized his negotiations with Cornelius Fudge.

Apart from the upcoming, unknown task, things were better than Harry might have hoped. Neither he nor Fleur had learned anything about the task, but he was working very hard to study so that he might be prepared.

One thing that was making him a bit nervous was Hermione and Fleur's behavior toward him. More Hermione's really, since it was so different than it had been in the past. With Fleur he did not have years of expectations to shatter. Both girls had been touching him discreetly, on the shoulder or the arm, sometimes taking his hand. It made him very nervous. Was he supposed to reciprocate?

He had to admit that it felt awfully nice when one of them gave him a hug, which seemed to occur almost every day. He took some comfort in the fact that they also seemed to hug each other.

_Maybe it was a French thing_ , he thought. _Maybe._

Harry was after all fourteen. He was quite well aware that his position was enviable, if a bit unbelievable. A few moments later, as more people gathered up outside to get ready to go to Hogsmeade, the believability rating underwent a shift.

First Hermione appeared walking toward him from the castle wearing a very cute skirt and leggings with a sweater under her open coat that seemed to indicate to the assembled male students that she was no longer a first-year.

Next, from across the grounds, Fleur Delacour was seen walking his way wearing an equally expressive sweater but a somewhat slimmer coat. She had her face half-wrapped in a thin scarf as well.

With a perfunctory "Good morning then, Harry!" Hermione proceeded to quite unexpectedly give him a friendly peck on the cheek. Harry's eyes opened wide as she did so, but he had no time to comment as he felt Fleur take his right arm.

"Salut, 'Arry!" Fleur said a little excitedly before she also gave him a small kiss. "Are we ready to go, zen?"

Harry took a breath before squeezing both the girls' hands and replying, "Morning you two, yes, I think we're about ready."

Before they could depart, Fred and George Weasley strolled over with amused expressions on their faces.

"Well look at this, Gred!"

"I can hardly believe it, Forge!"

"Little Harry-"

"All grown up-"

"With two gorgeous girls kissing him good morning!"

They stopped before the trio and bowed theatrically to Fleur and Hermione before calling out loudly, "Harry, mate, you've got to tell us how you do it!"

"First everyone's against you,"

"Then the next day you've got these two for best mates?"

"You need to write a book for the rest of us mortals!"

Harry could not help but laugh when he heard Fleur and Hermione giggling at the twins. It was impossible to do anything else with them.

"I'll keep it in mind if I live through next week, all right?"

"Sure, sure!"

"Got to add that on as a chapter as well, then?"

HPHPHPHP

Hermione laughed along with Fleur and Harry for most of the ride to Hogsmeade, thanks largely to the twins' antics as they begged Harry for advice. If pressed, she would have had to admit that she was feeling a little bit anxious.

It was hard to call it a date exactly, since both she and Fleur were going along with Harry, but it would be difficult to call it anything else. Hermione had certainly put enough effort into looking nice for it to be a date, something she basically never did. And then she had kissed Harry.

She had kissed him! She was still feeling a bit giddy from the experience.

Naturally Fleur had matched her there, and of course looked better than she did. Strangely though Hermione was not feeling as threatened as she imagined she would be. Throughout the week, even during the incident with Molly Weasley's awful and insulting howlers, she and Fleur had seemed to be on even footing. Their relationship seemed more companionable than competitive.

Having zero experience of anything like what she was currently doing, Hermione could not help but wonder if she was doing it right.

In a way she was very glad that Fleur did not seem inclined to try and overshadow her. It was hard for Hermione to imagine that she was physically much competition for Fleur. If Fleur did get serious about this, why would Harry ever choose his bushy-haired friend?

Hermione recalled how embarrassed she had been when Fleur noticed that her front teeth were smaller. It had been even worse when Harry noticed, although neither of them were judgmental. In fact, both had said much the same thing: that Hermione looked very nice either way.

Her teeth and hair had always been sticking points for Hermione, things she was very conscious of but was largely unsure what to do with. She had actually planned to ask Fleur for advice about her hair, but backed off at the last minute out of that same sense of nervousness. Fleur was a friend, but were they not both interested in Harry?

It was confusing, like she was fraternizing (soroicizing?) with the enemy but then the enemy was really very pleasant to be around and liked her too.

Fleur had said that it was ultimately not their decision to make; it was up to Harry. Hermione took comfort in this, but was still unsure exactly what she was feeling. Getting closer to both Fleur and Harry was very rewarding. Losing either of them as a friend would be very hard.

She hoped that no matter what Harry decided, she could keep her word and stay friends with Fleur.

HPHPHPHP

Hogsmeade proved to be incredibly busy, which was fortunate in that Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were able to blend in with the crowd. Well, as much as was possible after the article and the occasional male reaction to Fleur's veela allure.

While Hermione and Fleur toured the bookshop, Harry managed to sneak away long enough to purchase small gifts for both girls: they were called "SnAnimals," and they were actually small animated animals made of tin. After as much time contemplating as he dared, Harry selected an Eleonora's Falcon for Fleur and a Grey Crow for Hermione.

He took just enough time having them wrapped up and hidden away to be suspicious, but neither of the girls pressed him for details.

Upon heading toward the Three Broomsticks, the trio caught sight of Rita Skeeter. Regrettably, she also caught sight of them.

"My dear Harry Potter, you are in interesting company on your day out of Hogwarts aren't you?" Her expression was feral as she drew a quill and parchment from her bag. "I don't suppose you would like to have a quick word about the two lovely girls whose company-"

All three of them stepped forward angrily, but Hermione responded most quickly.

"No, Miss Skeeter, I do not believe that any of us will have anything to say to you." She glared at the woman, who was unperturbed by the young witch's obviously hostile tone. "Good day!"

At that, Hermione strode off followed by Harry and Fleur, both of whom glared at the woman as they passed by.

They entered the crowded inn and found a table, where Hermione proceeded to fume for a few moments as they ordered three butterbeers. "I can't believe how shameless that woman is! The nerve of her to actually think we would want to speak with her after she made up all that nonsense!"

"I believe you said eet," Fleur nodded, "She is shameless."

"I really hope that the article turns out all right when they print it," Harry commented nervously.

"I am sure eet will, 'Arry. I am more concerned wiz ze first task."

"Well you've both been studying and practicing, right? I mean we've nothing to go on except that it's supposed to test your bravery," Hermione noted. "What else can you really do?"

Both champions frowned a bit at that. Glancing around, Hermione noticed a familiar pair of figures over in the corner, standing up from their table. "Harry, is that Hagrid and... Professor Moody?"

"I didn't think they were friends," Harry commented absently.

"Zey seem to be 'eaded zis way."

A few moments later, after Hagrid had managed to clear a considerable path through the inn, he and Moody stopped to address them.

"Good to see you out and not hiding in the castle Potter, but try not to sit with your back to the door. Remember," Moody said as he leaned closer, his magical eye spinning, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Harry nodded a bit nervously, and then Hagrid broke in before he could reply.

"Nice to see you, Hermione, Miss Delacour," he nodded genially at them both before leaning closer and whispering to Harry, "Harry, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin, all right? You'll need to be 'idden though; got somethin' to show you." He then nodded gravely before straightening. "Anyway, great that you three're all out havin' a good time. Don't let that Skeeter woman drive ye mad."

That said, he and Moody turned and exited the inn.

"I wonder what he wants to show me," Harry questioned quietly. "Hope it's not some awful new gigantic skrewt or something."

Hermione's eyes got a little wide at the thought before the commented, "You need to make sure you're back in the common room in time to catch _that person_ , all right?"

Harry looked thoughtful. "I should have plenty of time."

"'Arry," Fleur said softly, a serious tone in her voice, "Ze first task is in three days, yes?"

Hermione glanced at Fleur and her eyes widened. "You think this might be something to do with it?"

"I guess so," Harry said after a moment. Then he addressed Fleur, looking into her eyes gravely. "Whatever I find out, I'll let you know as soon as I can Sunday."

Fleur smiled, and Hermione could see the nearest male patrons beginning to look their way absently. "Of course, 'Arry. Thank you." She held out a hand for his own and squeezed it.

Hermione looked on while Harry blushed.

"I, er, I got you both something while we were out. Would you like it now?" He looked at the girls hopefully.

The girls glanced at each other and nodded, prompting Harry to retrieve two small packages from his coat pocket. "Here," he said, offering them shyly.

Hermione took hers eagerly and only waited a moment before opening it. Inside she found a small metal crow about three inches long. At her touch, it stood and began preening its feathers before looking at her and winging its way onto her shoulder.

Fleur, seeing the small bird, let out a cry of delight and opened her own package to find a slightly larger bird, a hawk of some kind, which looked at her calmly for a moment before hopping onto her hand and preening.

"Yours is a Grey Crow, Hermione, and that one is an Eleonora's Falcon, Fleur. I hope you both like them."

"Oh Harry they're marvelous! I wonder what else they're charmed to do?" Hermione said excitedly.

"Zey are wonderful, 'Arry. Zis eez very thoughtful of you," Fleur said with a smile.

The two small tin birds then took note of each other and began a cursory examination, flitting about until they seemed satisfied in each others' company.

"How adorable!" Hermione cried as she clasped her hands over her chest. "Thank you, Harry." Then she looked stricken for a moment. "But I've nothing for you!"

Harry waved her concerns away with a sincere grin. "You don't need to get me anything. I'm really happy to be able to be out with you two. I'm sure I'd be barking by this point without you both."

Fleur tilted her head and a rather wicked grin appeared on her face. She turned to Hermione. "I think we can offer 'im a little token of our thanks, yes 'Ermione?"

The younger girl looked apprehensive but nodded. "Harry, we're done here. Let's go outside for a walk, all right?"

They stood up to exit after Fleur and Hermione packed their delicate little avians away. Harry was hardly a fool, but a combination of ingrained shyness and distraction from the positive reception of his gifts meant that he did not see what was coming.

As soon as they were out of the Three Broomsticks and away from the crowd, Hermione leaned over quickly, drew him into a hug, and kissed his cheek softly.

Harry's heart thumped rather alarmingly in his ears when he felt Hermione's lips pressed firmly against him. He had little time to recover, though, as Fleur stepped in to hug him and offered a more intimate kiss on the cheek than the one he had received that morning.

"Wha, um," Harry stuttered nervously as he stood there, looking at the two girls who were grinning like cats with cream.

"Thanks," he offered lamely, as the girls laughed and held his hands.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Five

AN: First off, thanks to Honoria Granger for finding a persistent error of mine; terribly embarrassing but I am very glad to have it fixed! If there are any others , please do let me know. Also, Honoria Granger was the first to correctly determine that the title of this story contains a little Anglo-Saxon.

I would really like to thank everyone for all the kind reviews. I have been persistently astonished to find more and more follows and favorites in my inbox, and it is a great encouragement for me. At present things are very busy day-to-day, but I am trying to make sure that I can continue to update one chapter per week. As I am a little ahead in my writing, I know this should be the case for a few weeks yet.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's a bit shorter than the last one, but there are a few longer ones in the works, I assure you!

HPHPHPHP

**"Close with a Frenchman, but out-maneuver a Russian." - Lord Nelson**

Harry staggered through the portrait entryway into the Gryffindor common room and just barely had the presence of mind to check the area before he removed his cloak. He collapsed into an armchair and put his head in his hands.

Dragons.

He was going to have to face a bloody dragon.

Whatever he had expected to see as Hagrid let him follow along on his impromptu date with Madame Maxime, it sure as hell hadn't been Charlie Weasley and a gaggle of other wizards corralling four gigantic, fire-breathing dragons.

He'd overheard Charlie telling Hagrid which breeds they were, and also that Charlie himself was really worried for Harry.

_At least Maxime will be telling Fleur_ , he thought. Not that Harry would be taking any chances on that score; he planned to tell Fleur, Krum, and Cedric tomorrow anyway, as soon as he got the chance. No one should have to face a dragon with no warning.

_Hermione's going to have kittens_ , Harry laughed to himself.

Taking a breath, Harry tried to calm down. He'd at least seen the dragon handlers take down one with multiple stunners. So it was at least _possible_ , even if he was certainly not going to be casting three or four stunners at once anytime soon. There had to be a way he could deal with it.

His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Sirius' head peeking out of the fireplace. Harry was pleased to see that he looked a good deal better than the last time he had seen him.

"Sirius! It's good to see you!"

"You too, pup. You holding up all right?"

Harry hesitated. "Yeah, Sirius. Things have been pretty rough, but I've got Hermione and, ah, and Fleur backing me up. So I'm ok."

Sirius nodded. "Glad to hear it. Funny to think there was a bit of truth in Skeeter's article after all then?" He teased.

Harry frowned in consternation. "Come on! Anyway, look. Fleur tells me her dad is pretty important in the French ministry, and he might be able to look into your trial and see about getting it reopened. Do you want me to tell Fleur? I think we can trust her."

Sirius looked drawn as he replied, "Harry, I was sent to Azkaban without a trial. Not the only one, either. If this man can get me a trial instead of a dementor's kiss, it might be worth it." Then he halted and shook his head. "Enough about that. Karkaroff. You need to know he was a Death Eater."

"What!"

Sirius went on to warn him about Moody being attacked, and Karkaroff's past. Just as Harry had introduced the fact that he would be facing a dragon, and Sirius was concurring with his earlier thought that it was not impossible, Harry heard noise on the stairwell.

"Go! Go, before someone sees you!"

Sirius' face vanished with a pop and Harry stood up to face the stairwell.

It was Ron.

"Who were you talking to?" Ron asked sleepily.

"What are you doing awake?" Harry replied testily. Ron had likely cost him his only chance to ask an adult about dragons.

"Nothing. Just woke up and heard something." Ron was more awake now, and sounded defensive. "What's it to you? Down here with _Hermione_ or something?"

Harry scowled. This was really not the conversation he needed to be having right now. Harry walked around him and up the stairs. "I'm going to bed."

"Sure, get your beauty rest for your next interview then."

Harry gritted his teeth and did not reply.

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Hermione was having a hard time not shaking when Harry revealed what he had seen the night before as they walked around the black lake the next morning.

"Dragons? Do they want all of you killed or something?"

"Well, _my friend_ seems to think that Karkaroff might be involved since he used to be a Death Eater."

That set off another round of discussion, but as usual Hermione cut through to the heart of the matter. "Whoever did it, what's important is those dragons. You said Madame Maxime was there, and Karkaroff was in the woods?"

Harry nodded. "I plan to tell Cedric, and Fleur naturally. I was going to tell Krum, but _my friend_ seems to think I shouldn't trust him."

"That might be a good decision, Harry. Karkaroff's sure to tell him, you told me how mad he was about you being extra competition for Krum anyway."

Harry sighed. "When are we supposed to see Fleur, anyway?"

"Afternoon in the Room."

"Well, I guess it's the library then. I'll see if I can find Cedric today too."

Harry did manage to find Cedric by chance leaving the hallway to Ravenclaw Tower, and apprised him of the situation. To say that he was not thrilled would be an understatement, but forewarned is forearmed. After a sincere thank you, they parted ways.

Research in the library netted them very little useful information, apart from some general characteristics of the breeds he would be facing and that nesting dragons were twice as vicious as usual. The Horntail seemed to be the worst of the lot.

Still without a plan, they made their way carefully toward the Room of Requirement to meet up with Fleur. She entered after they'd been there for about forty-five minutes and looked extremely nervous.

"'Arry, Madame Maxime told me zis morning: dragons!"

Harry sighed. "Yeah, I saw them last night."

Fleur sat down heavily and seemed to stare at nothing for a few moments. "'Ave you told anyone else?"

"He caught Cedric Diggory this morning, and we're pretty confident Karkaroff knows, so Krum should too," answered Hermione. "Fleur, do you know what you're going to do?"

The Beauxbatons witch looked pensive. "I think so, yes. I do very good work wiz mental manipulation; zat will be what I will try." Fleur was heartened when both of them gave her a confident nod, clearly sure that she could carry it off. She glanced over at Harry apprehensively. "And you, 'Arry?"

All three of them knew that Harry felt a keen disadvantage here. The other competitors were practically adults already, with years more magical education at their disposal. Harry doubted he could match Fleur in any contest of spellcasting, save perhaps his _patronus_ charm; any way he looked at it he was three years too early to be in this business at all.

As he remained silent, Fleur's face fell. Hermione noticed and tried to remain positive. "I know he can do this! Harry's got things he's very good at, just like you, Fleur. It's not as though he's supposed to conjure a dragon or transfigure himself an impenetrable shield or anything; the way to do it has to be something he's good at." Personally, even Hermione thought she was sounding a bit forced. There was certainly no way Harry was going to take down a dragon with stunning spells by himself; what could he really rely on?

"Just think on eet, 'Arry. I know you can do eet." Fleur gave him an encouraging smile.

He knew they were trying. Honestly, so was he. He'd been turning the problem of how to take down a dragon with only his wand and had really come up with nothing. He was concentrating very hard and suddenly he chuckled, thinking about how much nicer it would be if all this tournament business was just the Quidditch he'd expected this year, instead of a bloody dragon.

Suddenly he stopped chuckling and stood straight up, his eyes wide. "Quidditch!"

"Harry," Hermione began slowly, "I know this is scary, but you really need to-"

"No! Hermione," He turned to the girl and took her by the shoulders, looking right at into her eyes. "Quidditch! Something I'm good at, something I can rely on! Flying!"

Hermione's jaw dropped as she considered the possibility. Next to her, Fleur pointed out, "But we are not allowed to 'ave a broomstick, only our wands."

The green-eyed seeker turned and grinned at Fleur, and asked aloud to both of them, "How far away can you summon something from?"

"The summoning charm," Hermione breathed. "It might work, but Harry that's an awfully long way away, and you're not exactly an ace with it either."

"Zen we can 'elp 'im, yes?" Fleur stood, happy that Harry had a plan.

But Harry shook his head as he faced her. "No, Fleur. You've got a dragon just as awful as the one waiting for me over there. You've got to practice your own plan, not waste time helping me with mine."

Fleur was about to reply when Hermione spoke, "He's right, you know. I don't have any dragons waiting for me, and I've been helping with that charm anyway. I'll teach him." Hermione stood and looked confidently into Fleur's dark blue eyes. "He'll summon the firebolt or my name's not Hermione Granger."

Fleur reached out a hand and put it on the younger girl's shoulder. "Zen good luck. We'll just 'ave to count on 'Arry's flying, zen."

The girls nodded and looked at Harry, who was looking nervous, but excited.

"I can do it. I'll do my damnedest. Let's get to work."

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After that point it was though the rest of Harry's life was muted. The only thing he really noticed was that the _Daily Prophet_ had finally printed his letter, which basically stated that he had given no interview and that he had not entered the tournament himself. The letter also said that he had no girlfriend, and that the accusations against Fleur Delacour were extremely unjust.

The _Prophet_ 's retraction concurred with Harry's letter and went on to issue a personal apology to Fleur Delacour. Skeeter's article, though the damage had been done, was at least now history.

Apart from that, Harry practiced at all hours with Hermione, working to summon items from further and further away. Finally late Monday evening she was busily tossing items into the air from across the Room of Requirement and having him summon them before they hit the ground. He was doing really well, and seemed to have definitely mastered the charm.

Still, with a dragon to face in a few hours, Harry wanted to make sure his firebolt would be there when he called.

Hermione had depleted her stack of small orbs and so chose to toss a dictionary next. She'd gotten so used to the rhythm of Harry's repeated _Accio! Accio! Accio!_ that she was barely even paying attention anymore.

So she did not even notice when the dictionary flew across the room, not until it landed in Harry's outstretched hand and she saw his amazed expression, that he had not, in fact, said _Accio_ that time.

"Harry," she said slowly. "Did you just do that silently?" She watched him nod, amazed.

"Try it again."

She retrieved her items and started again. A ball. A textbook. Four orbs, one after the other. A small rock. A large cushion. The dictionary.

Harry had not uttered a syllable, but the pride and happiness on his face spoke louder than anything she had heard since Sunday morning. Hermione ran across the room and leapt into his arms.

"Oh Harry, that's amazing! That's N.E.W.T. level work you're doing there! I knew you could do it!" She was so excited and happy that she hardly noticed how close they were, with her arms around his neck and his at her waist.

Then she abruptly started to take a step back, embarrassed. Harry caught her before she did so, and gave her a small kiss on her cheek before letting her go.

Noting her silence, Harry awkwardly put his hand behind his head. "Sorry, Hermione, I was just really excited. I hope you aren't mad."

"No," she said softly, looking up to see him relax. "No, I'm not mad at all."

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Morning classes before the task were a blur, and right after lunch Harry found himself being marched over to the event area by a concerned Professor McGonagall.

He assured her that he was fine, which seemed to lessen her frown, before he entered the tent.

Everyone else was already present. Cedric was pacing nervously by the exit, Viktor Krum was standing still with a very serious expression on his face, and Fleur was seated on a small stool, frowning. She brightened as he entered.

"'Arry! Are you well?"

She stood and met him halfway with a hug as her frown disappeared. Immediately upon being in contact with her, Harry felt a bit better. "I'm well enough, Fleur. How about you?"

"Oui," she said, releasing him from the embrace. "I am ready, I think."

Their embrace had not gone unnoticed by the room's other occupants. Viktor Krum looked on with curiosity, while Cedric looked a little amazed.

A moment later Ludo Bagman arrived and indicated that they would be seeking the golden egg after they drew their "challenge" from a bag. Cedric was up first against the Swedish Short-snout, followed by Fleur and the Welsh Green, and finally Viktor and the Chinese Fireball.

Harry, much to his lack of amusement, had drawn the Hungarian Horntail and was going last.

Bagman departed a few minutes later, followed shortly by Cedric entering the arena. None of the remaining three spoke as they heard awful noises from the crowd and the dragon punctuated by a running commentary of Cedric's close calls with death.

At last it was over, and Bagman called Fleur's name. Harry himself was very tense and only barely keeping himself from shaking, but he looked into Fleur's dark eyes and saw a hint of panic there.

Harry took a deep breath, stepped forward, and put his arms around her.

And then he laid a soft kiss against her cheek, much as she had done to him near Hogsmeade.

When he pulled away Fleur was looking at him with a smile on her face; a tight one, but a smile nonetheless. Before Bagman could call her name again, Harry said, "I'll see you when this is over, Fleur."

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Fleur felt a hundred times better looking into Harry's green eyes before she turned with her head held high and entered the arena.

She would have to thank him later for that. She'd been anything but focused a moment before; she hoped the kiss had helped steady him as well.

The crowd was almost unnoticeable to her as soon as she saw the dragon. Madame Maxime's description really could not do the creature justice; standing in front of it with naught but a wand was definitely giving her the full terrifying experience. Behind the gigantic beast she spied the golden egg. Between them were a few outcroppings of rock and a number of scorch marks, presumably from Cedric Diggory's effort.

Fleur hesitated only a moment before diving behind the largest of the rocks, muttering a charm of cooling on herself just before she felt the dragonfire hit.

It rather astonished her to find that she felt very little fear; she suspected the sensation of complete tension in her muscles would be haunting her later, but for now being coiled like a spring was definitely beneficial.

She darted out when she felt the dragon's breath wane and got one step closer. Now all she needed was another opening to try to bewitch the creature.

She certainly hoped that the spell didn't fail.

It was a long moment before she felt the breath trail away and the dragon begin to pause to ready itself again. Fleur turned from her scorched shelter and stared the now very close dragon right in the eyes as she called out her strongest spell of slumber. She kept eye contact, unblinking, for the eternity it took for the Welsh Green's head to lay on the ground. It was probably more like twenty seconds, but she felt totally drained by the massive amount of magic she had had to channel in order to put an angry nesting dragon to sleep.

Gingerly, brushing her hair out of her face as she went, Fleur stepped softly forward. She paused a moment to cast a quick _silencio_ on her feet, then moved on to retrieve the egg and then walk very slowly to the edge of the arena.

As she neared the exit, the crowd went mad with delight and Ludo Bagman recounted her incredible nerve. She heard little of it, and none of her scores, as she sat down to let the rush of adrenaline leave her. Her hands were shaking, but the Hogwarts healer pronounced her completely uninjured a moment later.

Fleur Delacour had stolen a dragon's egg and had not a mark on her.

A moment later she realized that she had been sitting silently for a while, and then heard the crowd cheering as Bagman announced that Viktor Krum had also successfully completed the task. Fleur stood and made her way to the viewing area. She was not going to miss this.

It was a few minutes after she got in view of the arena floor before the area was cleared and the gigantic Hungarian Horntail was led in. And then Ludo Bagman called Harry Potter's name.

Fleur knew he was alone in there now, and wished she could offer him the same courage he had given her. She thought of him smiling in the tent, and hoped for the best.

She could see his expression turn grim when he saw the beast. The Horntail looked even more threatening than the dragon she'd faced, and she now knew exactly what it felt like to face down a dragon.

The arena went silent as everyone, Fleur included, waited to see what Harry would do.

Harry raised his wand, pointing at about chest-height in the vague direction of the castle.

He said nothing.

Some people immediately began murmuring; Fleur could hear Bagman clearing his throat nervously.

Why wasn't he casting the spell? Was he just too afraid to speak? For a terrible second Fleur thought she would see Harry die in front of her.

And then she felt it. Just a little, she felt the smile, and then she saw it on his face.

_Silent casting_ , she thought to herself with a grin. _Who knew he could do that?_

No one else seemed to, but a moment later a broomstick streaked into the arena and hovered right next to Harry. Glancing up at the menacing horntail dragon, Harry Potter leapt onto his firebolt and took to the air.

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Hermione felt her heart in her throat as the firebolt appeared and Harry kicked off to shoot dizzyingly into the afternoon sky. Watching as the silent casting had taken everyone completely by surprise, Hermione had felt a measure of pride. Harry had certainly done the unexpected.

Now, as she watched him plummet and dive less than two feet from the horntail's head as the angry beast began to shoot flames, she was so tense that she could feel her nails cut her palms.

Again and again Harry dove, deliberately agitating the huge dragon, with Bagman yelling wildly as the crowd cheered.

Then he came in from the side and the spiked tail tore into his arm. Hermione screamed, but Harry did not falter. He simply shot back up into the air and braced for another run down. Again he dove around the horntails's head, again he dodged the gout of flame.

The fourth time up, the horntail reared back and shrieked at him. Hermione almost didn't even see him drop to the ground; the speed made his earlier descents look like slow-motion. His hands were off his broom - _off his broom! She was going to kill him_ \- and then he was under the dragon and had the golden egg and was circling the arena toward the exit.

The noise was deafening between the Horntail shrieking, Bagman shouting, and the crown all on their feet screaming. Hermione let out a shuddering sigh and shook her head before dashing to the exit and the medical tent to meet Harry.

When she got there Madam Pomfrey had just finished pouring some awful looking purple potion over his injured arm. As soon as she was out of the way Hermione drew him into a hug. For once, there was no objection from Madam Pomfrey. Harry was shaking from the sudden drop of adrenaline but grinned eagerly at her all the same.

"Oh Harry that was amazing!" She leaned in and kissed him, still on the cheek but much more forcefully than she had before.

Behind her she heard another voice. "'Arry, zat was incredible flying. I am so glad you're all right!" Hermione moved to the side but kept her arms around Harry. Fleur didn't hesitate before hugging him as well and gracing him with another kiss. "As a thank you for before, 'Arry," she said with a gleam in her eyes.

"Fleur, I couldn't believe how calm you looked out there. You just took that Welsh Green down like it was a walk in the park!" Hermione exclaimed. "It was fantastic work!"

The French witch blushed crimson. "I was very afraid before I entered ze arena. A certain young wizard kindly encouraged me." Fleur smiled again, then leaned over and kissed Hermione on the cheek as well. "Thank you both. I 'ad confidence because of you two."

Now it was Harry and Hermione's turn to blush.

As they all sat silently, taking a calm moment after the craziness of the task, Ron Weasley entered the tent.

"Harry, mate, I believe you about the Goblet now. That was some amazing..." His voice trailed off as he saw Harry in Fleur and Hermione's arms. Ron frowned. "What's all this then, Harry?"

Harry's expression instantly darkened. "What's all what, Ron?"

"Well, the, you know, those two!" He gestured at the girls and tried not to look at Fleur.

At this, both Hermione and Fleur stood and began frowning as well.

"What, Ron? Harry had to almost die for you to believe him, and now you're upset to see us?"

"I am glad my friend is all right, Meester Weazley. Is zere a problem?"

Faced with three hostile glances, Ron began backing away and making placating gestures. "I didn't mean anything, you know! Come on Harry, I believe you now!"

Harry stood up and started fixing his clothing back in place. "Ron, get out of here," he said quietly.

"But Harry-"

"OUT!" Harry shouted, turning to look Ron in the eye. Suddenly the black-haired boy he thought he knew became the wizard who had just outflown a dragon.

Ron stumbled back and before he could speak was interrupted by his sister.

"Ron! What is the matter with you!" Ginny shouted. "Ugh!" she pulled her unresisting older brother out of the tent and called back, "I'm sorry Harry. You were brilliant out there. Don't let him bother you."

There were a few seconds of silence before Fleur and Hermione turned to look at Harry. "Ready to go then?" Hermione asked calmly.

Harry nodded.

They stepped out of the tent together to see what the judges had awarded him. Harry ended up tied with Fleur for first place. Krum and Diggory had tied for second.

The trio managed to avoid speaking to a visibly irritated Rita Skeeter, and after a few more words of congratulation Fleur headed off to the Beauxbatons students who were feeling more supportive after seeing her performance in the task. Harry and Hermione were quickly joined by Ginny, who advised them that the twins were already working up a celebration in the Gryffindor common room.

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The next week saw Harry in the good graces of the Gryffindors, and indeed most of the student body after he and Cedric Diggory publicly congratulated one another. The seventh-year Hufflepuff proved to be very pleased with his own performance, and was grateful that Harry had warned him beforehand.

But it was not all roses. For one thing, end of term exams were approaching and Hermione was in a revising fury. Harry was himself worried about the long-form questions that Babbling had told them to expect regarding Proto-Germanic verbs, to say nothing of the translations.

At least he did not have to worry much about Charms thanks to his spellcasting during the first task. Professor Flitwick had called him in front of the class and had him demonstrate the silent summoning charm before showering him with praise. Hermione, from her seat in the front row, had been beaming.

The resident top student of fourth year had been eyeing Harry rather carefully, and he was still not sure what it meant. Fleur continued to meet them for study and tea, but she was really just as busy as they were. Harry was sure he was not imagining the looks that Fleur was giving him either, even though he did not know what to do about them.

Neither of them made any progress with the shrieking eggs.

Fleur did report that she had received a letter from her father; its contents were alarming, to say the least. Charles Delacour had been employing the excuse of concern for his daughter's company to ask questions about Sirius Black, and had confirmed that there was indeed no trial record of any kind. It was, though, the second revelation in the letter that had them all concerned.

James and Lily Potter's wills had never been read. Fleur's father confided that he had to proceed very carefully, since he was certain that only someone with considerable influence on the magical government of Britain could have arranged such a thing.

Of Harry's childhood, he had found nothing at all.

While a bit uncomfortable at the thought of Fleur's father asking questions about his home life, Harry was infuriated to hear about the wills. None of them knew how to proceed from there; Hermione was unsure whether they should ask Dumbledore, as it seemed that he had been a member of the Wizengamot even back then, and was naturally very influential in the immediate aftermath of Voldemort's fall.

Although confident that Dumbledore knew more than he was saying, Harry had little desire to ask the headmaster about it. He was also a bit afraid that Hermione and Fleur's suspicions were correct, and that the old wizard had had something to do with the matter of the wills.

The three of them also discussed the matter of the basilisk, but with the current worries about the headmaster it seemed a very bad idea to begin making inquiries about it. The Chamber of Secrets would have to remain sealed for the time being.

Harry advised Fleur to pass along his thanks and tried to focus on the exams.

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The second Saturday after the first task, Harry was looking over his History of Magic notes with a frown when he was approached by a nervous Ginny Weasley.

"Harry, can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked hopefully, and Harry invited her to sit down.

She seemed to steel herself before saying, "Harry, are you interested in Hermione or that French girl?"

The young wizard's eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. For a second he was thrown entirely; sure, they had hugged him, and both girls had given him small kisses. He'd even kissed them on the cheek. But surely they were just being kind! Harry had never been kissed before, and only very rarely hugged.

He started to reply, then paused, thinking. Were they interested? He remembered the long looks Hermione had been giving him, and her bright smile the day of the task. He recalled Fleur's sincere concern for him, and the feel of her arms around him as he shook with the memory of the dragon he'd just escaped.

Were they interested in him, in that way?

Was he interested?

"Ginny," he said slowly, knowing that the young girl needed some sort of reply, "They're both my friends, but..." His voice trailed off.

Ginny looked on with an uncertain expression.

"I don't know. They're both very good to me." It was about as honest as he could be, since he really had no idea how to verbalize what Ginny's question had started him thinking.

The younger girl smiled at him softly. "I'm glad they are, Harry. Really. I know you've needed some friends this year, and I'm sorry I've not been such a good one."

At this Harry had to smile. "Come on, Ginny. You know you're a good friend. Luna's told me how nice you are to her, and that you got all mad at those girls in Herbology when they teased her."

The red-haired witch blushed at the compliment. "They were being really mean to her. Since I could do something, it would've been bad not to, right?"

Harry nodded. "That's why you're a good friend, Ginny. As for me and this year, well, sometimes you just have to grin and bear it. At least things are better now!"

"I'm glad Harry. I was so afraid for you... But really, talk to Hermione and the other girl... Fleur." She stood and bit her lip. "Just think about it, Harry."

She left, and he did, to the detriment of his History of Magic reviewing.

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Over the next few days Harry found himself continually worrying over Ginny's comments. She had said, after all, that he needed to talk to both girls.

But what was he to say?

He already felt that he was making a fool of himself around Hermione now, and tea with Fleur on Wednesday saw him stammering hopelessly at the both of them. It would almost have been easier if he could have just ignored it, but the implication of Ginny's words would not go away. The only thing that saved him from thinking about it all the time was his homework. Even flying over the Quidditch pitch in the bracing cold wind was not sufficient to drive the question from his mind.

What did he think about Hermione Granger and Fleur Delacour?

When Hermione had hugged Harry back in first year, right before he headed off to face Quirrell, it had been the very first hug he could recall receiving. He had never really been touched physically by someone whom he trusted before he came to Hogwarts. He had never been kissed, certainly.

This was part of the trouble: Harry Potter really had no idea what _was_ normal when it came to friends, or girlfriends, or family, or anyone else for that matter. Books taught him that kisses from one's mother, hugs from one's father, handshakes between grown men, light kisses on the cheek in greeting, all were normal, ordinary things. He had watched with some fascination and shyness as a few of the sixth and seventh-year students kissed one another. He had even seen Cedric Diggory kissing Cho Chang after the first task.

Was that normal, for a boyfriend and girlfriend?

Even if it was normal, that did nothing to solve Harry's other dilemma. Were Fleur and Hermione both interested in him? He felt a bit like an arrogant git even asking himself the question, so he knew he could hardly approach anyone else about it. But really, more than one girl seemed interested in Cedric Diggory; dozens in fact. Was it possible, then, that two girls could be interested in Harry Potter?

Hermione was his best friend, one who had never let Harry down. She was clever, kind, and extremely brave. She was really very cute when she wasn't busy lecturing him and Ron, and she did a fair bit less of that these days. She had hugged him, and kissed him.

Fleur was, well, radiant. She was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and was poised more as an adult than a student. Hermione had told him how she had taken care of the Welsh Green, with a measured stare on her face that seemed, according to Hermione, to take care of the dragon all on its own. But she was also very respectful of his privacy, and full of laughter in private. She listened to Hermione and Harry both with care and concern, and never seemed to treat them as if there were any difference between them.

Fleur, too, had hugged and kissed him. She had not been shy about it, either.

When he thought carefully about it, it seemed clear to Harry that neither girl sought out any other male company in the castle. They both seemed to smile at him, and laugh with him, and worry for him.

And then there was the not inconsiderable fact that he had kissed them both as well.

But how was he to deal with it?

Harry had no answers as he sat through Transfiguration on Thursday. He did rather well with the cross-species switching that McGonagall was teaching; she had been quite impressed by his performance in the first task - he might almost say she had been relieved - and subsequently had been sending approving nods his way as his work in the course had undergone steady improvement.

She had just assigned homework, which Harry was rather looking forward to doing to get his mind away from his ongoing dilemma, when the Professor spoke.

"I have an announcement to make," she began gravely. "The Yule Ball is approaching — a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish —"

Lavender Brown let out a giggle, but Harry hardly heard it. He didn't even dare to look at Hermione and only barely understood the rest of McGonagall's announcement. His personal dilemma, already the topic of some discussion around the castle, had just become an entirely public affair with a deadline attached as a bonus.

When McGonagall called to him to remain behind for a word, he waved Hermione away and said hoarsely that he would see her in a few moments.

"Potter, the champions and their partners —"

"Partners?" said Harry, fearing the worst.

The older witch looked surprised at his tone. "Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said as though reminding him of something he had forgotten. "Your dance partners."

Harry's eyes widened. "Dance partners?" He felt himself going red. "I have to dance, then?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," said the Professor with a somewhat amused expression. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."

"So, I have to have a date then, right?"

McGonagall looked at him and tilted her head a bit, gauging the question before responding. "Yes Mr. Potter, that would be implicit."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Six

AN: Once again I have to say thank you to all my readers. I have gotten so much positive feedback about the story that I feel a bit nervous forging ahead here! I have seen a few reviews wondering about the ball, some with speculation about what Harry might do. Well here it is; I hope you all enjoy it! Thanks very much for reading.

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**"A rose has no back" - Chinese reply if you apologize for turning your back (taken from a British commonplace book)**

Word of the upcoming Yule Ball spread around Hogwarts with a speed that defied all reason, and Harry began to feel as though he had a target on his back. No less than five girls asked him to the ball in three days; he rejected them all as kindly as possible, but was getting very concerned. _Probably be easier to just invite Dobby to the bloody thing_ , Harry thought darkly.

With little hope of a reply in time, he composed a letter to Sirius. He never got around to sending it, though; just putting the whole situation into words made him feel a bit better, and surprisingly helped clear things up for him. Having to enumerate the troubles meant naming them all, and having them on paper before him allowed him to think a bit more rationally.

The issue was simple. He needed a date to the ball, and he needed to know how to dance. He also needed to know whether Hermione and Fleur were interested in him. His own feelings on the matter would only become clear, he thought, once he could understand theirs, and he needed a bit more time close to them first.

Harry Potter set off to the Room of Requirement with a plan in mind. If those girls _did_ like him in the way he thought they might, then he had better not back down.

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Hermione Granger was nervous. While she and Fleur had reached a sort of equilibrium with Harry concerning physical affection, he still seemed a bit clueless. Disregarding her own feelings of inadequacy compared to the blonde witch, Hermione knew that the real obstacle was Harry and his complete lack of understanding concerning relationships. Hermione herself was no expert, having made precisely three close friends (one of whom was not speaking with her) and having had zero serious relationships.

But Harry...

He rarely spoke about his home life, but what he did say was invariably appalling. What she had overheard from Fred and George concerning his escape before second year was not good either. Bars on the window did not imply anything positive about the Dursleys.

He had been all of fifteen months old when his parents were murdered, and bore a scar that had never faded. She was not absolutely sure, but she suspected that her impromptu hug at the potions trial in first year was the first time anyone had hugged him.

It was a horrible thought, really, but it did go a long way toward explaining why he seemed so absolutely clueless about the two girls in his company. Fleur, she suspected, was only complicating matters. It might be hard enough for Harry to imagine Hermione interested in him, but Fleur Delacour was three years older and about two inches taller than he was.

Plus she was absolutely, heartbreakingly beautiful, something Hermione was quite sure she herself was not.

If it bothered her, it must be confusing Harry to no end.

Still and all, she liked Fleur a great deal. They could talk about anything, they respected each other, and they confided in each other; both girls were quite alone otherwise. So things were peaceful, or as peaceful as they could be, until that awful day in McGonagall's class.

Harry hadn't even looked at her, and indeed seemed pale enough to merit a trip to the hospital wing. He had joked a bit about the Yule Ball afterwards, but it was pretty thin humor.

He had not asked her to the ball.

As far as Hermione was aware, he had not asked Fleur, or anyone else.

Then this afternoon, while she was busy with researching her antidotes assignment for Snape, Dobby had appeared and quietly asked her "To please be meeting with the great Harry Potter in the Room of Requirement in one hour."

Fifty-four minutes and one intense session of failing to improve her appearance later, she drew a deep breath and entered the Room as the door materialized before her.

The first thing she noticed was the walls, all mirrors with a barre running along the middle. The second was Harry nervously fiddling with something at a table near the doorway.

"Harry!" She greeted a bit louder than she intended. He turned quickly and blushed.

"Ah, hi Hermione." He stammered a bit. "Doing all right then?" Harry winced inwardly as he spoke. _Smooth, Potter_.  

"Fine, Harry. Did you need something?" She asked as she walked over to him. The room was rather sizable, with a wooden floor this time. She suddenly became very nervous as he straightened and walked forward, arm outstretched.  He took her hand awkwardly, then took a deep breath before speaking.  

"Hermione, I wanted to-"

Before he could say anything further Fleur entered the room. "'Ello 'Arry, 'Ermione," she greeted as she looked around the room curiously. "Are you dancing?"

Fleur's question more or less stopped Harry cold and returned Hermione's anxiety to critical levels in the bargain.

When she received no reply, Fleur frowned a bit. Honestly, she was concerned; Fleur, as a champion, had to have a dance partner for the ball. She was currently holding out for Harry to ask her, but she was beginning to think it might not happen. She was, after all, not the only girl who was interested. One other interested party was currently desperately biting her lip and blushing madly.

Had Hermione already done something? Had Harry? Harry seemed petrified, and Hermione _was_ here alone with him. Had she already asked him?

Fleur locked eyes with Hermione and opened her mouth to speak.

"I, I haven't danced with him!" The girl burst out in a panic. "He hasn't asked me yet-" Hermione cut off that outburst and covered her mouth with both hands, appalled by what she had said. She felt hot tears in her eyes and started to run toward the door.

Harry stood in shock for a moment. _Asked me? Hasn't asked me yet?_ He saw her start to run and knew he had to act.

"Hermione, wait!" He cried and ran forward, grabbing her arm. She pulled away as best she could, but without meaning to he threw her off balance and she crashed into Fleur, who was standing only a few feet inside the room with a shocked expression. Harry lost his footing on the unexpectedly slick dance floor and went headfirst into both of them.

Recovering a moment later, his head only three feet from the door, Harry groaned. Hermione and Fleur lay on the floor partly covered by him, and Hermione was audibly sobbing.

He scrambled to his knees to look at them. "Are, are you all right? I'm sorry! Really, I'm sorry!" His voice cracked a little as he spoke. "Hermione, please don't cry! This is all my fault anyway."

Fleur helped the younger girl into a sitting position and held her close, feeling Hermione's sobbing slow a little against her shoulder. She looked at Harry.

"What 'appened, 'Arry? Did you say something to 'er before I came in?" She did not mean to sound accusatory, but the combination of her own fears, Hermione sobbing, and the fall on the floor did not lend her much control.

Harry recoiled visibly. "I, no! I just asked both of you here at the same time! I was just going to ask you to help me learn to dance..." Harry's voice trailed off. "I'm sorry, Hermione. Please don't cry."

After a moment of reflection on his pathetic showing, with Fleur watching him appraisingly while Hermione sniffled and pulled away to rub her eyes, Harry came to a decision. He was getting angry; this disaster had gone far enough, and his earlier plan to dance with the girls and figure out what to do in the process was finished before he'd even started it. Suddenly he realized in a moment of inspiration that he hadn't been able to decide, not _whether_ he liked them but _which one_ of the girls he liked _more_.

It was time to do something, to take some action.

It was time to be a Gryffindor about this.

He leaned over and looked Hermione in the eyes, his expression completely serious. "Hermione Granger, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Both girls stared open-mouthed in shock.

Harry waited silently, his gaze unwavering.

Hermione spoke. "Why, of course I will Harry." Then she paused and threw herself at him, hugging him for all she was worth. "Of course I will!"

Fleur's heart was breaking a little and she was not entirely able to keep it from showing. She'd wanted _so much_ for Harry to ask her. She had known that it had to end though, one way or the other.

Before she could complete her reflection though, Harry gently pushed a confused Hermione away, his expression just as serious as it had been before as he looked at Fleur.

His voice was very calm as he spoke.

"Fleur Delacour, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

The witch in question was suddenly very glad that she was already on the floor.

Beside Harry, Hermione wore an expression of complete surprise.

"But, but 'Arry, you 'ave already asked 'Ermione," Fleur began, incredulous.

"And now I'm asking you too." He replied forcefully. The forceful expression was currently riding on more adrenaline than even the Horntail had provoked, but it _was_ staying in place. "I figured out that I think I like you, both of you. I can't choose who I like more and I don't want you going with some other guy. So I'm asking you both." He felt his resolve teetering on the edge of a second failure for the day. "Fleur Delacour, will you please go to the ball with me?"

Fleur bit her lip to hide her surprise, and nodded slowly.

Harry let out a shuddering sigh and fell back, palms splayed on the ground behind him for support. "Thank Merlin."

"HARRY!" Hermione shouted at him. "How is that supposed to work? You have to open the ball, and McGonagall will kill you, and everyone will talk about it, and, and," she stumbled.

"I think," Fleur began softly, looking very upset, "I think that 'Ermione may be right, 'Arry. Zere will be a lot of trouble eef we go all three togezzer."

Harry, however, did not look upset. He actually looked a bit excited. "So both of you, you're ok with it, but you think other people would be the trouble, right? Other people, but not you two?"

Hermione seemed to consider this, and then glanced meaningfully at Fleur.

"Harry." She stated flatly, not looking at him. "Take the map and leave for thirty minutes or so."

She caught his expression of panic and raised a hand. "Fleur, I'm not mad at him."

"I am not either," she replied with a little laughter in her eyes.

"Well," he said, his resolve now uncertain, "If you're both sure." He stood and retrieved the map, checking that the corridor was empty. He glanced back before he opened the door, worried, but saw Fleur delicately waving him away.

He left the Room of Requirement with trepidation. Harry Potter's destiny, it seemed, would be decided with him _in absentia_.

HPHPHPHP

After Harry left, Hermione waited a few moments before falling backward onto the floor and covering her face, giggling madly.

It seemed the most appropriate reaction, given the last five minutes or so, and so Fleur joined her.

Taking a few breaths to steady herself, Hermione sat up and faced her friend. She was happy to note that Fleur looked both a little apprehensive and a little pleased.

"So," Hermione said. They looked at each other. "He's balmy. Lost it completely. I think we broke him."

Fleur repressed another giggle. "Maybe, 'Ermione, but he iz never one to disappoint, oui? Ze wizard 'as no fear!"

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "Are you all right with this?"

Fleur paused to gather her thoughts. "Well," she began, "Now we know zat 'e likes us both. Zat is good. At least 'e finally noticed and is trying, yes?"

Hermione nodded. "But what about the ball, Fleur? I'm serious, Professor McGonagall will slap him if he says he's taking two girls!"

"Do you want 'im to take me, and not you?" Fleur eyed the younger girl levelly.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I'd rather he take me of course."

Fleur shrugged. "Zen 'e was right, wasn't 'e?"

"Well then what are we to do?"

Both girls were silent. "Let us at least sit and 'ave tea," Fleur suggested. A few moments later Winky was happily delivering tea to the two women, who elected to sit at the small table in the corner of the room.

They waited in silence a few more moments, and then Hermione spoke.

"Fleur, I think he should take you." She halted the older witch's objection with a gesture. "Really, think of it this way. You have to have a date, right?" Fleur nodded. "I don't."

"But 'Ermione, zat is very much unfair!"

"Well then, how about he takes you, and dances with both of us?"

Fleur stopped a moment to consider that. "You would be satisfied, my friend?"

"Well," she commented while pushing a scone around her plate, "He _did_ ask me first after all." She grinned cheekily and Fleur could not help but laugh.

"Very well zen! But what about 'Arry? And what about after ze ball, hmm?" She eyed the other witch curiously.

Hermione flushed and fidgeted. "Well, he's the one who asked us both, so he should be grateful! As for afterward..." She bit her lip. "I don't know, Fleur. I like him. I really do."

"As do I."

"Well his decision seems to be no decision, so far."

"So it seems," commented Fleur with a thoughtful look. "But it was quite daring for 'im to ask two witches to ze Yule Ball, was it not?"

"Pure Harry Potter. Back him into a corner and he'll always surprise you," replied Hermione. Like it or not, she could not help but be excited at the thought of going to the ball with Fleur and Harry.

Life at Hogwarts was never dull!

HPHPHPHP

Harry spent the half-hour away from the Room of Requirement asking himself if he had finally lost his mind. He'd made his decision in a split second, but sadly had an eternity of time to second-guess himself while Fleur and Hermione decided his fate.

It was such a debacle. Nothing had gone the way he'd planned.

But the look on Hermione's face as she had turned to run, Fleur's expression as she comforted the sobbing girl... That had really made the decision for him. They liked each other, and he liked both of them.

So why not all together, then?

In the heat of the moment it had seemed like an obvious solution. Now, roaming the castle and wringing his hands, he really hoped that he had not botched the whole business.

He took comfort in the reassurance they had offered before he left. If they weren't angry with him, then it couldn't be all bad.

Now that he realized he wanted to be more than friends though, things had definitely gotten a whole lot more complicated.

Harry sighed. The dragon had been so much simpler.

Thirty minutes after he had departed, Harry returned to the Room of Requirement to find Fleur and Hermione drinking tea and having what appeared to be a thoroughly normal conversation.

"Hello Harry," Hermione greeted him pleasantly. “Officially you'll be taking Fleur to the ball, and I'll be going alone; you're going to be dancing with both of us."

Harry nodded with wide eyes. Both girls were smiling at him. No one was angry. No one else would be taking either of them to the ball.

It was a complete victory. He almost cheered, but he was too emotionally exhausted.

"I think I need to sit down for a minute," he said as he moved to the table.

"Very well Monsieur double-date, but zen you are learning to dance," Fleur answered mirthfully.

"What are we going to tell people?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Nozzing," Fleur replied. "Zis eez our business."

Harry agreed heartily. The Yule Ball was going to be an interesting evening.

HPHPHPHP

As the term drew to a close, winter wrapped Hogwarts in a frigid wind and a great deal of snow. Students congregated near hearths, buried themselves under blankets, and generally spent very little of their time outdoors.

Nevertheless, very few of them would be leaving for Christmas break this year. There was a dance afoot, and it was a free-for-all to find dates. Harry, Hermione, and Fleur largely refrained from comment on the matter, merely saying that they already had found dates for the ball; after a few days this meant they were free from hopeful pursuers. Other students solved the dilemma with casual grace, most notably Fred Weasley, who had so nonchalantly asked Angelina Johnson to the ball, and with such smashing results, that it became somewhat legendary among the other students, even outside of Gryffindor House.

Naturally, some were not so fortunate. Amidst the wave of confessions and rejections, the Weasley twins wreaked havoc with their newest creation, canary creams. Some attempts at asking others to the ball ended in sabotage, others in mirth, and of course some in tears. When the dust settled Neville ended up asking Ginny successfully, Ron managed to keep himself calm enough to secure Lavender Brown as a date, and Viktor Krum, dateless, was asked by an entirely aloof Luna Lovegood one day in the library.

Krum had earlier attempted to ask Hermione to the ball but was politely rebuffed; two days later, Luna Lovegood wandered up to him and advised him that, as a third year, she was not going to be able to attend without a date, and that he seemed to be quite a polite young wizard. Taking the hint and wishing to avoid any fawning fangirls, Krum had agreed to the utter and complete shock of said fangirls along with basically everyone else, apart from Luna.

The blonde Ravenclaw had merely nodded, smiled absently, and told him that she would likely be wearing silver.

Hermione, Harry, and Fleur practiced dancing when they could; Hermione drove Harry to work ahead on homework when they could not. Around them the castle gradually grew more and more interesting as the staff outdid themselves with decorations. Well, most of the staff. Harry privately suspected that Snape was not in the habit of contributing to Christmas, although he would not put it past him to pour a withering potion on the extremely large Christmas tree Hagrid had put up.

Harry was still not on speaking terms with Ron, but neither were they openly glaring at one another. Ron had simply drifted into closer friendship with Seamus, who ended up going with Parvati Patil. Things were peaceful.

On the horizon, apart from the Yule Ball itself of course, Harry could foresee problems: Rita Skeeter continued to be spotted around the castle, which did not bode well; he still did not know what to do about his parents' wills or Dumbledore; they still had no idea who had entered him into the tournament; the golden egg continued to be a complete puzzle; and Sirius's reply, when it came, only counseled further caution.

The girls, at least, seemed to be very happy. Fleur's lack of comment on the identity of her date was driving Madame Maxime up the wall, but she could do little apart from fussing about it. Dancing lessons were enjoyable for all of them, and Harry's genial relationship with the other leading champion meant lots of long looks their way, but few snide remarks.

Christmas day dawned clear and Harry was woken early by an overeager Dobby; he did not mind too much though, and accepted Dobby's small gift gracefully, reciprocating with a new pair of Christmas-themed socks.

Notably, he did not receive a gift from Mrs. Weasley or Ron.

He had taken great care with Hermione and Fleur's presents, managing - with Hagrid's assistance - to secure two small custom made bags enchanted with weight-reducing charms, Hermione's made to match the crow he had earlier gotten her and Fleur's patterned after her hawk. He had also acquired flowers for them both for that evening.

Fleur gave him a very nice black cloak trimmed in emerald, which he thought made him look a little imposing; Hermione presented him with a matching set of Quidditch gloves and a book, _Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland._

Both girls were quite affectionate; Harry thoroughly enjoyed the attention.

That afternoon they spent some time on the grounds, playing in the snow. The Gryffindors were quite shocked to see the beautiful Fleur Delacour laughing and building a snow fort, and shocked again when Hermione joined her.

Finally around five, the girls departed. Harry spent the last three hours before the Yule Ball excited and eager; dancing with the girls in private had shown how much they were looking forward to it, and he was glad he would not be disappointing them. He showered, dressed, and did his utmost to make his hair behave before finally abandoning it as a lost cause.

Then Harry settled in to wait for his dates to arrive.

HPHPHPHP

Harry could not help but be amused as the hour of the Yule Ball approached. It was amusement tinged with anticipation, but amusement nonetheless. He had overheard several discussions in the Gryffindor common room as he had waited, book in hand, for time to pass. Some discussions were about who he was taking to the ball, although bets were on the two witches close to him. Some were about Fleur Delacour.

But the most amusing ones were about Hermione Granger, because she was not in the fourth year Gryffindor girl's dormitory at all.

Consequently Parvati and Lavender were speculating up a storm, trying to decide whether she had run away, fallen ill, not gotten a dress, eloped with her date...

Harry tried not to laugh.

At twenty minutes to eight Harry left the common room and headed to the castle gate. No one noticed his two sets of flowers, as he held them together. He gave himself a bit of extra time just in case the castle conspired to lead him astray, but it turned out to be most cooperative. Perhaps it just wanted the ball to go smoothly.

It was a tedious ten minutes of waiting before the contingent from Durmstrang entered, with Karkaroff just ahead of Viktor Krum and the diminutive but undeniably very cute Luna Lovegood. She was wearing a tiara set with a bright red gem that matched Krum's robes.

They looked rather handsome together, he thought.

Immediately afterward, the Beauxbatons group arrived and removed their coats. Harry spied the lithe form of Fleur Delacour behind Madame Maxime. Next to her was a brown-haired girl in a blue dress whom Harry realized after a moment of staring was Hermione Granger.

Fleur grinned at Harry's reaction and pushed Hermione forward.

"You, you look lovely Hermione!" Harry said enthusiastically. He presented her with flowers, staring at her hair.

"I made 'er keep ze curls, 'Arry," Fleur called. "Zey look very nice, no?"

He nodded in reply, then turned to present flowers to Fleur as well. She was clad in a silvery dress which accentuated her figure; her hair was done up in a braid. Harry was stunned for a second before he managed to recover and give her the flowers. "You, well I know it's hardly a surprise, but you look beautiful, Fleur."

"Why thank you, 'Arry," she smiled.

Meanwhile the group of students around them was beginning to wonder what was going on. Finally Madame Maxime walked forward. "What iz zis, Fleur? Eez 'e taking you or ze ozzer witch?" She sounded rather short-tempered and Harry replied quickly.

"I will be escorting Ms. Delacour to the champion's table, Madame Maxime." The tall witch nodded in satisfaction. "I will also be dancing with Ms. Granger, though there isn't room for three at the table as I understand it." He watched a little amused as the headmistress paled, then huffed angrily before glaring and Fleur and stalking away.

Around them, the other students whispered.

"I think you handled that rather well, Harry," Hermione commented while taking his left arm.

"Indeed. He eez quite forceful," Fleur replied with a smirk as she took his right.

"Now I just have to survive McGonagall," he commented airily, as though it were a simple matter.

The trio made their way to the entrance of the transformed great hall. Before they had gotten too close, though, Harry heard "MISTER POTTER!"

An extremely irritated Minerva McGonagall was striding toward him with eyes that promised the severest consequences.

Harry therefore headed her off at the pass. "Good evening Professor. I'm escorting both Hermione and Fleur to the ball, but naturally only one of them can sit at the champion's table and dance the opening dance with me, so that will of course be Fleur." He got it all out and watched the witch's expression gradually go from anger to interest to what might be termed tolerance.

"You know Mr. Potter," she said after carefully examining the smiling faces of the girls clinging merrily to his arms, "Your father was rather a troublesome young man until your mother finally made him get his head on straight." She paused. "See that you don't disappoint either of these girls, do you understand me?"

Harry met her eyes gravely, his expression suddenly serious. "I will do my best, Professor."

At this she made a ghost of a smile before clapping her hands and calling, "Champions to me please," and walking away.

Fleur glanced over at Hermione and gave her a light hug, followed by a kiss on each cheek. Hermione followed suit.

"Ze second dance, yes?"

"Have fun up there, you two," Hermione said as she waved them to follow McGonagall.

"We will. See you soon," Harry said as he turned away.

Shortly thereafter, when everyone else, Hermione included, had entered, the champions walked in to thunderous applause. Harry noticed with some amusement that several of the boys were staring totally open-mouthed at his date. He saw Hermione giggling as they walked by.

"I think zey are a little surprised, 'Arry," she commented as they approached the table.

"Well I am the luckiest wizard in Hogwarts," he said smiling. Fleur flashed a smile back and Harry turned to the table just in time to see Percy Weasley stumble while drawing out a chair.

"Percy?" He said. "Hello then, what are you doing here?"

Percy took a moment to tear his eyes away from the vision standing next to Potter. "I've been promoted," he began, then proceeded to explain that he was taking Mr. Crouch's place as the gentleman was ill. Harry and Fleur took their seats while he spoke.

After Dumbledore opened the dinner, conversation became general. Krum was busily explaining Christmas at Durmstrang to an intrigued Luna while Karkaroff looked on in dismay. When Dumbledore mentioned a mysterious room full of chamber pots Harry had to glance at Fleur. Had the headmaster accidentally found the Room of Requirement?

To cover that and avoid Percy, Harry spoke to Fleur. Knowing each other rather well at this point, she was taking the time to explain holiday traditions at Beauxbatons to him; her glowing description of the huge ice sculptures was infectious, and soon even Luna and Madame Maxime were drawn in.

Eventually, dinner was ended and the band members took their places. Harry stood and smiled at Fleur. So far, things had been fun. Now he would get to see whether Fleur was more excited dancing with him in public or in private.

HPHPHPHP

While Fleur and Harry dined at the main table, Hermione sat calmly next to Ginny and Neville. At a nearby table Ron kept throwing incredulous and confused glances her way, which she answered with a cheery wave much to the irritation of both Ron and Lavender. Ginny hesitated, but eventually had to ask.

"OK Hermione, really, what's going on with you and Harry?" Neville could not hide his interest either.

Hermione adopted a serene attitude. "Harry couldn't have us both at the champion's table, so I elected to wait for the second dance, otherwise Fleur would have had to get another date."

"Hermione," Ginny began, clearly unsatisfied. "Are you dating him or what? He's up there with the prettiest witch in school," Neville tried to interject but was unsuccessful, "and you act like it's no concern of yours! Don't even try to tell me you're just friends!"

"I suppose he's dating both of us."

Neville and Ginny both gaped at her offhand reply. "WHAT?" Ginny asked loudly before controlling her voice. "What do you mean, both of you? Harry's not a two-timer!"

Hermione laughed at this, not realizing as she did so that her light, musical laugh and cascade of curls were drawing a number of stares. "Oh really Ginny, two-timer. I can't wait to tell him that."

The red-headed witch looked extremely frustrated, but Neville came to her rescue. "So he's dating both of you, and you're all agreed for now then?" He hazarded.

Hermione nodded. "That's it. Fleur and I helped each other get ready tonight. I'm glad she's up there having a good time; don't they look cute together? Harry's a little short of course, but Fleur's just absolutely gorgeous."

"I still don't think I get it," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"Don't worry about it. Just have some dinner and think about that corsage Neville made for you. Looks smashing by the way; I wish Harry could do that, Neville."

The young wizard looked embarrassed. "Well, it is sort of my thing after all. I hope you like it Ginny."

The witch in question gave him a brilliant smile in reply.

Once dinner was over, Hermione watched as the champions took their places amid much whispering. Naturally Cedric and Cho made a nice couple and had broken a few hearts; Luna was the subject of dismayed envy by Krum's fan club, though both she and her date seemed to be enjoying themselves; Fleur and Harry looked wonderful together.

Hermione had had a great time getting dressed and made up with Fleur. She was a bit surprised with how... unconcerned by nudity the other girl had been, but had taken the opportunity to look at her while trying her best to match the attitude. Of course she had known that Fleur was beautiful, but seeing her like that had really been an eye-opener for Hermione. Fleur had even had to wave her hand in front of her eyes to get Hermione to focus on her face again.

She'd been very embarrassed, but Fleur had smiled generously and said, "Eet is very flattering, 'Ermione." Then she had given the equally naked Hermione an appraising look before commenting favorably on her bum.

The upshot of all this was that she now knew what Fleur looked like under her dress, and it was surely worth checking out. She briefly imagined Harry seeing Fleur in that state and then promptly passing out in shock. For now though, they looked very natural together; lessons had really paid off, and the French girl seemed radiant dancing in public with the young wizard.

Hermione was up and eagerly awaiting her turn as the music ended and everyone applauded. Fleur elected to sit the next dance out; whether by luck or intimidation or that it was the first open dance, she was not immediately approached.

Out on the floor Hermione was having a marvelous time; it felt wonderful to be so openly enjoying herself with Harry. Hermione was not particularly used to thinking of herself as desirable or vivacious, but she looked very much a beautiful young woman at the moment; seeing the way Harry looked at her and catching Fleur's enthusiastic gaze as they twirled by made it seem more real for her. Hermione was feeling very attractive, and that did more than anything else to make her so to the people around her.

Harry found that he simply could not stop smiling. For a young man whose life had been alternately terrible and terrifying, exuberance was not something he was accustomed to feeling. He had found that it was increasingly difficult to think of yourself negatively when in very positive company though; Fleur and Hermione's affectionate attitudes were cementing the nascent feelings of pride and self-worth that he had been nurturing all year. When he had commented to Fleur that he was the luckiest wizard in Hogwarts, he had been telling her his honest opinion.

Harry had never felt more genuinely happy. In place of the gilded past he had seen in the Mirror of Erised all those years ago, the boy-who-lived had found a present joy worth protecting. He thought of his parents and McGonagall's offhand reference to James and Lily Potter at Hogwarts. Somehow he felt that if they could see him here, now, dancing with Fleur and Hermione, they would be pleased.

It was with bright eyes that Harry, Hermione, and Fleur looked at each other a little while later as they relaxed, taking a little break from dancing. Cedric and Cho had chatted with them for a bit before moving on to visit with some of Cho's Ravenclaw housemates. Luna meanwhile seemed intent on monopolizing Viktor's attention; Harry was a bit worried about what she was telling him.

Things could not go perfectly forever, though, and Harry soon heard the voice of Draco Malfoy behind him.

"Oh look! It's the scarhead with his mudblood girlfriend and their French whore."

"Really Draco, it's hard to tell who's the leftover bint in that company!" Pansy added viciously.

Harry was livid. He turned, prepared to punch Malfoy and not stop punching him until the git was unconscious. Before he could, though, he felt Fleur's hand on his arm.

"'Arry," she commented with a sugary sweet tone, "May I ask who ze small pug-nosed girl eez?"

"That would be Pansy, Fleur," Hermione commented. She struggled to match the older girl's composure, but found it rather easier than she thought as Pansy began turning purple with rage. "That little boy there, Draco? She's his fiance."

Fleur looked at them with mock astonishment, her hand still firmly on Harry. "Oh really! Well eet iz good that zey are togezzer then; zey can make many rude little pug-children."

Harry meanwhile had recovered his composure while the girls had dealt with the insults in their own way. "Malfoy, you had better go. I don't think you're quite man enough to chat with both of these ladies." He sneered in a manner which did credit to his long study in the classroom of Severus Snape.

"You, you," Malfoy was turning a shade of purple to match his date when suddenly Ron Weasley stepped in front of him.

"Malfoy, get out of here. There's no one here to impress who doesn't already hate you."

The Slytherin shook angrily before whirling away with a very unhappy Pansy Parkinson.

Harry saw Ron take a breath before turning around. Lavender Brown stood a few paces away, eyes wide.

"Look, Harry, I heard what he said. You've had enough of that. You should go enjoy the ball, mate." He looked down at his feet. "You too, Hermione. Malfoy's a bastard. Just ignore him."

Before he could turn to go Harry reached out a hand and grabbed Ron by the shoulder. "Thanks, mate," he said honestly. "He was getting ready to wreck the whole thing."

Ron nodded, a little hesitant. Lavender came to his rescue and took his arm eagerly. "Oh Ron that was wonderful! Good of you to tell him off after what he said about Fleur and Hermione!" She turned to look at the girls, Hermione in particular, with excitement. "What a takedown you two! That was brutal! I didn't know you had it in you, Granger! Not bad!"

So saying, Lavender, who was more adept at reading mood than some gave her credit for, led Ron away after gently pushing him to shake Harry's hand.

When Lavender and Ron had moved onto the dance floor, Harry turned to the girls.

"Lavender was right you two; that was brutal. Sorry I couldn't really help."

Fleur made a dismissive gesture. "Don't waste your time, 'Arry. You are 'ere to see us, yes?"

Hermione had to smile at that. She was feeling rather proud of how well she'd matched up with Fleur Delacour there. "You can beat him at something else later, Harry. Not like he'll ever win at anything against you anyway."

Reassured, Harry soon found himself forgetting Malfoy as first Hermione, then Fleur guided him onto the dance floor. After those two dances, though, he insisted that they take a shot at it themselves.

"I think it'd be really cute, you two," he offered, his green eyes mischievous.

Hermione gave him a long look before taking Fleur's arm. "Well if you two can face dragons I can bloody well dance with Fleur Delacour!"

And she did, to the great interest of the girls and the drooling admiration of the boys present.

From McGonagall Harry saw a flicker of amusement as she inclined her head in his direction, but then again he might have only imagined it.

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As the evening wound down Harry led Hermione and Fleur for a walk in the magically enclosed gardens that had been crafted for the Yule Ball. Enchanted against the chill winter wind, they were not cold but pleasantly cool after the great hall's crush of students.

While wandering among the rose bushes they overheard Karkaroff and Snape angrily discussing something, after which Snape began harassing students and destroying the decorations. He sneered at the trio when he caught sight of them, but said nothing as he walked away.

A few moments later they overheard an extremely awkward conversation between Hagrid and Madame Maxime, in which Maxime denied being a half-giantess. When they got suitably far away, Fleur shook her head sadly.

"Zis is about what I 'ad expected," she commented. "She is most uncomfortable about eet; zat eez why she treats me ze way she does."

Harry sighed and finally located a small bench for the three of them to share, carefully making sure no one was around to overhear them before Fleur cast a quick privacy charm. "Really, this is not what I'd intended when I wanted to come out to the gardens with you two," he commented with some frustration.

While Harry was looking at his feet, Fleur quirked an eyebrow at Hermione, whose eyes had widened as she began to imagine possible reasons to go out to the garden with two girls. Fleur motioned for her to be silent, indicating Harry, and Hermione nodded.

They would have to see what he elected to do.

Fleur found that she was not worried for some reason, though it did seem as though they were on the cusp of a change. It did not frighten her.

Looking at the night sky, Hermione wondered why she did not feel anxious. Harry would need to make a choice soon, wouldn't he?

Finally Harry decided that he had waited long enough and summoned his resolve. He turned and knelt to speak with the girls at eye-level. "I've had a brilliant time tonight. I don't think I've ever been as happy as I have been these past weeks, and it's all because of you two."

The young wizard closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them and looked at the expectant witches in front of him. "I don't know how to say this, because I've never said anything like it before. I know you're both waiting for me to decide something. Well, I like you both. That's what I've decided, and I don't know anything else I can say about it."

Both girls felt their skin tingling at this statement.

He looked a bit desperate, but forged on. "I think I'd be lucky enough to have one of you like me. I've never had anyone else like me before. But I do, well, care for both of you. It's hard to put it into words." He tensed. "So I won't try any more."

And with that statement and no other warning, Harry Potter leaned forward awkwardly and kissed Hermione Granger full on the lips. She was taken utterly and completely by surprise, and had no time at all to process what she was thinking, much less what Harry was thinking, before he pulled away and she looked into his eyes. She saw fear, and nervous courage, and a hint of real desire.

Then he promptly turned and kissed Fleur Delacour.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat, really, for the first time she could consciously remember. It was as though she were attached to a lightning rod.

The part-veela witch next to her was feeling much the same. When Harry had kissed Hermione Fleur's breath had caught in her throat as she felt a sensation as of being washed over by a pounding surf. When he turned and looked at her she was overwhelmed by what she saw in his expression. He kissed her briefly, but forcefully, before pulling back.

Harry was sure that his hair was going to catch on fire. He was sure he had just made a complete fool of himself. He felt like his whole body was ill-equipped to contain all the things he was feeling, as if he needed to be a bigger person entirely just to have the room to sort it all out. It felt like an eternity as both Hermione and Fleur looked at him in amazement, then turned hesitantly to each other.

Fleur held out her hand and Hermione took it, biting her lip as she looked into the older girl's dark blue eyes. What could she say, what could either of them say?

As Harry had demonstrated, there was nothing to say, so they kissed each other.

They pulled back from each other, still holding hands, breathless. When they looked over at Harry, whose expression seemed to indicate that he no longer fully understood what he had wrought, a sudden burst of wind flew through the garden, stirring Hermione's curly hair around her face before it settled down and the brief wind fell away to nothing.

When the wind had gone Harry took heart and leaned forward to hug both of the girls. He was gasping for breath as though he had just come from a run, and he noted as they hugged that Hermione and Fleur were as well.

After a moment, they were again calm. Hermione was the first to speak.

"Is _that_ what you came to the gardens to do, Harry? Get yourself two girlfriends?" She sounded flippant, but her expression quickly shifted to shock and a bit of fear. "I, I mean, I," she looked to Fleur helplessly.

"'Ermione," she began as a grin came over her features, "It seems zat ze two girlfriends found 'im well enough."

Once again, Harry felt a profound sense of relief. He had taken that gamble when he ran out of words, trusting that showing what he felt would not get him slapped down.

It had not.

He hugged both girls tightly to him. "Thanks for understanding, even though I'm an idiot."

Once again Hermione marveled at how little Harry had known love. Glancing at Fleur, she could see that the other girl understood that Harry reaching out to them was something they wanted to encourage. If it took both of them to make Harry Potter happy, then Hermione knew she was going to do it.

Somehow, after that kiss - _those kisses_ \- she amended mentally, she was confident that she and Fleur understood one another perfectly.

If Harry had been a different person, he might have known better than to try to love both girls. As it was he had managed it through determination and luck. They seemed to be willing to be with each other and with him.

Hermione was not sure what to do, or how to proceed, but she did have to admit that she felt better than she ever had in her life. Looking at Harry and Fleur, she knew they felt the same way.


	7. Chapter 7

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Seven

AN: Thank you all very much for the continued support for this story; I'm still a bit amazed by all the feedback I've gotten! I've read a number of reviews with comments and suggestions about the nature of the principal relationship I'm writing here; suffice it to say that I think I have a pretty clear idea of where I am going with things, and I believe it comes across more thoroughly in this and subsequent chapters. I hope you all continue to enjoy the story!

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**"Happiness is no laughing matter." - Archbishop Whately**

The remainder of the Christmas break was extremely pleasant for Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. Although most of the student body was ultimately unsure what to think about them, they did not seem inclined to comment overly much. There was so much post-Yule Ball gossip that even Harry taking two girls to the ball was not incredibly outstanding; no one knew that they were dating _per se_ , and as their relationship in public did not seem largely that different, they had no reason to say anything about it. Ron had offered an apology to Fleur, and although he was no longer spending all his time with Harry and Hermione, he was at least friendly and mostly polite.

Harry was glad for the change. Ron was his first friend, and he was not the sort of a friend himself to be disloyal or hold a grudge.

The trio spent time with each other; Fleur reviewed a good deal since it was her final year at Beauxbatons, while Hermione and Harry kept her company by getting well into their work for the new term. Hermione was so pleased by the progress they were making she even managed to forget largely about Fleur and Harry's eggs, which remained mysterious to both of them. Oddly enough Cedric Diggory caught Harry alone the last evening of break and advised him to take a bath with his; Harry thanked him for the advice and planned to tell Fleur and Hermione that week.

Harry had had a wonderful time over the holiday, even taking Hermione up on his firebolt while Fleur flew alongside them. Physically they did not progress any farther than the kisses offered in the garden at the ball; kissing was quite exciting enough for Harry. Nevertheless he did feel closer to the two girls by the day, as did the girls to each other. They each felt moments of withdrawal when not together, but counted it worth the happiness they felt the rest of the time. All three of them were very relaxed and refreshed for the first Monday of the new term, which was very fortunate, since it turned out to be quite an awful day.

Harry heard some whispering at breakfast, but had ignored it in favor of retaining his good mood. Once he and Hermione arrived at Care of Magical Creatures to see a brand new professor, though, his good mood began to evaporate. Almost immediately Malfoy was there, grinning and shoving two new articles by Rita Skeeter in his face.

"Did you read the news then, Potter? Good stuff in there these days!" The boy did not even try to contain his glee as he handed Harry a copy of the _Prophet_.

One held the revelation that Hagrid was half-giant, and seemed to be the cause for the professor's absence.

Bad as that was, the other one had Harry fit to murder someone.

_Harry Potter, Led Astray!_

_This intrepid reporter, loyal readers may recall, was forced to retract an article last year in which Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived, was indicated to be dating muggleborn witch Hermione Granger, while also being manipulated by the French part-veela witch Fleur Delacour. At the time, it was rightly pointed out that our young hero was dating no one at all, and was certainly not under the influence of Ms. Delacour's veela charms, the effects of which are well known among the wizarding world._

_However, this is no longer the case! Young Harry Potter in fact escorted both witches to the Yule Ball at Hogwarts on Christmas day, dancing all evening with them. This reporter, though, has it on good authority that the brazen witches not only danced with young Mr. Potter, but also rather intimately with each other, to the horror of some students._

_"It was just appalling to see them draped all over each other like that," commented a distraught fourth-year girl, Pansy Parkinson. "It turns my stomach."_

_Hers was not the only report of this behavior; in fact it was established by multiple witnesses, including several Hogwarts professors, that the two girls danced in each others' arms before leading the innocent young wizard into the gardens. There, among high hedges suitable for private revelations (see Dumbledore's Giant Mistake, p.2), the two young witches had young Harry kissing both of them and confessing his uncertainties before they proceeded to kiss each other!_

_Naturally we in the British wizarding world are all too aware of the reputation of muggle habits of relation between young people, which are dubious at best; we are also well aware of what happens to a young man entranced by a veela. Our young Mr. Potter, already bereft of the love of his parents, seems to be entangled by not one but two witches bent on drawing him into a highly suspicious relationship!_

_This reporter calls for the muggleborn and veela witches to halt their entrapment of young Harry Potter..._

The article continued from there, but Harry was already practically seeing red while Malfoy looked on, smirking.

As soon as class ended Harry shoved the paper at Hermione, who was already feeling apprehensive after seeing her boyfriend's expression. Reading the articles herself, Hermione began to feel ill. "Oh Harry, this... I don't know what to say!"

"I do," Harry growled, having been thinking about it all through class. "How did she know about that in the garden, for us or for Hagrid? There was no one around!"

Hermione tried to be rational. "An invisibility cloak, maybe?"

"There wasn't that much room, was there? Plus the privacy charm, and we weren't very loud about our conversation either."

"Harry," Hermione commented worriedly, "We need to talk to Fleur about this."

"I know, I know,” he said, running his hand through his unkempt hair in frustration, “I'll have Dobby leave her a note to meet us later, all right?"

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Harry was pleased to find that Gryffindor House, notably the Weasleys and Neville, seemed unwilling to take the offensive view put forward by the article. Ginny made no promises about her mother, though. After an awful day of harassment by a newly reinvigorated Slytherin House, combined with skeptical glances from many of the students, Harry and Hermione left the great hall with Fleur for a chat.

"How did she know, Fleur?" Hermione asked desperately. "This is awful, for Hagrid more than us! We have to pin that Skeeter woman down!"

"Well," Fleur noted cautiously, "All 'Arry can do is deny it zen. But after ze last one, zis will get very ugly."

"I'm so sorry you two, I feel like I'm making you both look bad." Harry sounded frustrated.

"Nonsense! It's that awful Skeeter woman Harry." Hermione frowned. "I wish there was something-"

"Ms. Granger, Ms. Delacour, Mr. Potter." Behind them, from the direction of the hall they had already left, came Professor McGonagall. Harry could not help but sigh. "Come with me for a moment."

Glancing at the Gryffindor pair for confirmation, Fleur followed as McGonagall led them into her office silently. Once there, she gestured for them to sit down, and then surprisingly turned to cast a series of silencing and privacy charms.

"Professor, what-" Hermione began.

"Ms. Granger, wait a moment." The older woman frowned. She cast another two or three spells that Harry did not recognize before speaking.

"All right you three. I was pleased to see you behaving well at the ball, and it is terrible that this article came out. What I want to know is whether it has a few points of truth in it?" When Harry bristled, McGonagall fixed him with a condescending glare. "Really Mr. Potter, do you think I suspect either of these girls of entrapping you? How ridiculous."

She leaned over her desk and said, "I want to know whether that Skeeter woman really saw you there in the gardens together."

All three students looked uncomfortable, but Fleur replied first. "We believe zat she did, Professor. We do not know 'ow she did eet, 'owever."

McGonagall leaned back and nodded. "I suspected as much. I do not appreciate my students being spied on, any more than I do my fellow professors." She looked extremely irritated. "Ms. Granger, I believe I overheard you saying you wanted to do something about her?"

"Yes, professor. I do." Hermione replied grimly.

McGonagall nodded. "This is not usually something I would recommend, but it might be a good idea to consider... baiting her."

"Baiting her, Professor?" Harry asked. "Like drawing her out?"

"Precisely Mr. Potter. I know that you," she cocked an eyebrow, "Have been known to disregard the rules on occasion." Harry looked sheepish. "If Ms. Skeeter were to be led to follow you under some pretext, she might well betray herself, or you might give her some false information."

"You are suggesting zat we entrap zis woman, zen?" Fleur asked with a hint of amusement.

"I am not pleased with her presence here, Miss Delacour. You three have her attention. Be cautious, but consider it. If anything should occur, know that you have my support… within reason." She stood and began dispelling the wards she had placed. "Now, be on your way, all of you."

Harry stood and looked at his head of house in a whole new light. "I, well, thank you Professor. Thanks."

She nodded in reply. "Do what you need to do, Mr. Potter."

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Over the next few days the trio were too occupied with attempting to rouse Hagrid from his isolation and dealing with the fallout of the article to pursue the clue Cedric had given Harry, but they did discuss the matter of Rita Skeeter. All three agreed that further political pressure from Fleur's father would not be immediately useful, as Hagrid was unable to deny Rita's claims and Harry did not know how to answer them successfully. Nevertheless, Hermione believed that with time and the Marauder's Map that they could locate her, even if she was invisible.

Fleur reported that Madame Maxime was no longer trying to regulate her activities; the headmistress was frequently to be found weeping, and Fleur imagined she knew quite well why that was. As for Fleur's parents, they had already exchanged letters about the matter and resolved to see what materialized before taking any further action.

Both girls had received a number of howlers, including one each from Molly Weasley, but Harry and Professor McGonagall's efforts saw them largely annihilated before they could do much harm.

The trio planned to take advantage of Cedric's hint Monday night in the prefect's bath, after the Hogsmeade visit that weekend. The visit, though, turned out to be one unpleasant surprise after another. Ludo Bagman, while meeting with a pair of goblins, offered Harry unauthorized help with the tournament before revealing that Mr. Crouch had been missing work.

As if that were not awkward enough, Rita Skeeter made an appearance in the Three Broomsticks as well. They managed to remain civil, but all three of them had developed pounding headaches by the time she finally left. Hermione finally led them away from Hogsmeade, enraged by Skeeter, to confront Hagrid.

"Hagrid!" Hermione shouted as she pounded on his front door. "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! Nobody cares if your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let that foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're just being —"

Her rant was interrupted, though, when Albus Dumbledore opened the door. "Hello Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, and Ms. Delacour. Perhaps you would like to come inside?"

Harry thought he noticed Dumbledore frowning a bit as Hermione entered, but his expression quickly returned to an even sort of happiness. "There Hagrid, did you hear Ms. Granger?" He said when they were all inside. "Living proof of what I have been saying to you."

Hagrid was lying in bed and looked absolutely miserable, but he did seem to perk up at that remark.

It took a bit of convincing for Hagrid to feel better, but in the end Harry and Hermione were satisfied that he was going to return to work. Fleur also noted in passing that Madame Maxime seemed very upset herself, which put a thoughtful look on the half-giant's face. Fleur privately hoped that the gentleman could help Maxime get over her own issues; if he could, then that article at least might end up being something of a blessing.

Dumbledore continued all the while chatting with the trio, and did not mention the other article, or Harry's relationship with the two girls, at all. It was very awkward for Harry to imagine that he could no longer trust Albus Dumbledore; even more so when the old wizard was here, alone, trying to cheer up Hagrid with letters from parents and tea cakes.

Could such a man really have gone against the wishes of his parents, or deliberately left him with the Dursleys who hated him?

Harry had no answer.

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Ginny Weasley was not sure what she was supposed to be feeling. Ever since that horrible Skeeter woman had published her article, Ginny and her brothers had been standing by Harry and Hermione. And Fleur, of course.

Harry had denied that the girls were doing any entrapping, but it was becoming very clear to everyone that, entrapped or not, Harry had some sort of real relationship going with both girls. Ron refused to ask for fear of alienating his friends again; already he was not in their confidence as he had been before. The twins just smirked and slapped Harry on the back, but said nothing further about it.

Ginny offered support and defended them from criticism, but she could not help but feel brokenhearted. Hermione was Harry's best friend, so a relationship there was never an impossibility. But Fleur Delacour? That had been a bolt from the blue.

Both at once? Ginny was sure that her hero was now quite beyond her.

She wanted to be happy for them, really, but it was difficult. Then a few moments ago it had gotten more difficult still.

Ginny had been up in the common room reading, unable to sleep, long after everyone had gone to bed. She had actually been dozing herself, slumped in a chair, when she heard someone descending the stairs, and then a voice asked, "Got the egg?"

Hermione. It was Hermione. And the one with the egg could only be...

"Right here, Hermione," she heard Harry whisper.

"Let's go then. Only about twelve minutes until Fleur's supposed to meet us at the bath. We need to be careful."

"I've got the cloak here, come on."

The whispering died off as they exited through the portrait. A now awake Ginny bit her lip and retrieved her book to walk up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. She tried not to cry but nevertheless felt a few hot tears on her cheeks as she walked toward her bed.

Harry Potter was well and truly taken. She'd best get over it if she wanted to remain friends with him.

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Harry and Hermione proceeded quietly and carefully under the invisibility cloak to meet up with Fleur. Dobby was apparating her into the one-eyed witch passage; Winky was occupied in keeping watch on the prefect's bath, confirming the password in the bargain. When they had cautiously retrieved the shivering Fleur, they moved on to the bath.

Winky reported no entry or exit in the past two hours; the Marauder's Map confirmed they were alone. Harry leaned forward and said "Pine Fresh," and the doorway opened.

Hermione nodded at Winky, who was set to keep watch for them as an added security measure, before following the other two inside. What she saw there had her gaping.

The extravagance of the bath bordered on the absurd; it was enormous, covered in ridiculous decorations and elaborately tiled. There was even an ornate mermaid statue which seemed to be visibly sleeping. "This is a bit much, don't you two think?" She asked as she looked around.

Harry had to agree. "It's a bit crazy, really."

"Looks like a pleasant place to relax, I think," Fleur commented, "Even eef it eez a bit overdone."

The trio noted labelled changing rooms and Fleur led Hermione into the girls' side. "We'll be out zere in a minute, 'Arry."

Harry blinked and set his egg down next to the edge of the bath where Fleur had placed hers. Entering the changing area - just as over the top as the rest of the baths - he quickly put on some shorts he had acquired at the last Hogsmeade outing along with a dark shirt. He stepped out and entered the bath, watching as it gradually filled with pleasantly bubbled water. It was quite relaxing, and Harry was beginning to wonder whether he was going to be made a prefect next year when he heard the girls walking across the tile.

He turned and looked, catching a glimpse of Fleur's ankles disappearing into the water. Sweeping his gaze upward he found that she was wearing a dark green two-piece bathing suit. On some level he knew that it was really quite conservative, but he had an extremely difficult time tearing his eyes away from her hips and then her chest.

When he did so he naturally found himself looking at a very embarrassed Hermione, who was wearing a similarly cut suit in dark red. Although she was naturally not as developed as Fleur, Harry did note that she was very lovely; in fact he had just as much difficulty looking away from her as he had from the veela witch.

Clearing his throat audibly, Harry turned to regard the two eggs by the bath. "Well then," he said, his voice, he knew, betraying his distraction, "Let's see what these are."

"A moment, 'Arry," Fleur called. A second later he felt her arms fall around his neck as she drew him into an embrace. “Isn't zis nice?"

Harry was sure he had stopped breathing. Hermione, watching the two of them, was faring little better. As she moved a little closer to them in the bath, she saw Fleur plant a gentle kiss against Harry's neck. Suddenly she felt quite a bit warmer than the bath warranted.

In Fleur's arms, Harry was trembling. He was so distracted, in fact that he did not notice her hands proceed under his shirt and begin wandering over his back. He did notice when she stopped suddenly and tensed. "'Arry, can you take off zis shirt, please?"

Hermione was a little confused by Fleur's tone. "Fleur, are you all right? You sound angry."

Harry though turned to face them and began backing away. "I, I'd rather not," he said, looking away from both of them.

"Harry," Hermione commented, moving closer, "Is something the matter?"

Before he could reply, Fleur beat him to it. "Zere is something we need to see, 'Ermione." Her voice was strained. "'Arry, we will not 'urt you. Please." She looked at him with concern.

When he did not respond, the motioned for Hermione to come closer and they both took his hand. He was looking away and taking quick, shallow breaths, but he was not running away.

"Please, 'Arry?" Fleur asked again.

Harry was shaking.  _Not this, not this, don’t look…_   Coming down from the elation of a few moments before was too much; the memories of Vernon striking him made him cold and ashamed.  He felt resigned.  It was normal, after all.  He had spent most of his life feeling that way.  The girls would see.  They should see, he thought, because then they would know the sort of person he really was.  He swallowed, then after a moment he nodded. "OK. Just, please..." His voice died and his shoulders slumped. He pulled his hands from theirs, then turned and began taking off the wet shirt.

Hermione gasped as she saw Harry's back. Two dozen white scars criss-crossed him from his shoulders to his waist, the flesh welted where they had clearly been left untreated. In an instant, she and Fleur were holding him.

"Harry," Hermione asked, trying to keep her anger in check, "Did they do this to you?" The _they_ was understood.

Harry bit his lip and nodded.

"Your uncle?" She confirmed.

He nodded again.

Harry looked up to see tears in Fleur's eyes. "Zey will never 'urt you again, love." She hugged him tightly. "Never."

Hermione kissed him lightly on the cheek. "We don't think any less of you Harry. I know you're uncomfortable, but we love you." It felt natural to say it, but the moment the words left her, Hermione felt her pulse quicken as all three of them tensed.

"I," Harry spoke softly, "For a long time I thought everyone hated me," his voice was thick with emotion. "I know that's not true now. I'm not sure how to say this." Rubbing at his eyes, Harry faced the two girls as he withdrew from their embrace. "I love you, Fleur, Hermione. I think I love both of you."

The younger witch could not help it and burst into tears as she threw herself at him. Fleur gave her a moment before drawing them both into an embrace as they all three sat down in the warm bath.

"We will be 'ere for you, 'Arry. I love you." Fleur was unsure how she had found herself here, with these two, but it felt very comfortable. It felt like she was meant to be there.

"I, I love you, both of you! I don't know what we're to do about this." Hermione sounded overwhelmed, so Fleur and Harry comforted her as best they could.

"We'll just see what happens, all right? I know what I feel." Harry said, still feeling a bit overwhelmed himself. "It's not going to change."

"Zere is no 'urry," Fleur added, smiling.

Hermione took a breath. "I just, well, it's hardly what I expected to be doing this year."

Harry had to laugh at that, his scars forgotten for the moment. Fleur joined in and began teasing Hermione in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"'Arry," she said with a grin, "Do you know zat 'Ermione 'ad no swimsuit? I just transfigured ze clothes she was going to wear in 'ere."

"Well of course I didn't!" Hermione exclaimed. "What would I need one for at Hogwarts?"

"I think I should 'ave made it a bit more daring, yes?" Hermione backed away at the gleam in Fleur's eye.

"Fleur, you can't go about changing it! It's already so small!"

"Who eez to stop me, hmm?"

"Certainly not me," Harry said loftily. “You've already taken off my shirt, after all."

Fleur actually fell back laughing at this comment and Hermione's gobsmacked expression.

"No fear there, eh Mr. Gryffindor?" The brown-haired witch replied after she recovered, "Better watch out or we'll see how brave you are when I take this off myself."

Harry's wide eyed shock provoked another round of laughter before Hermione broke it up.

"We really need to look at those clues," she indicated the eggs.

Fleur, Hermione, and Harry ended up taking a few turns underwater to make sure they had the clue down, and checked the eggs against one another. Hermione rushed out of the bath to write the verse down.

"So something will be taken from us."

"Seems so," Harry assented.

"But what will it be, I wonder?" Hermione asked.

"Well whatever it is, I need to know how to get to the mermaid village without drowning."

Fleur looked pensive. "Zere is ze bubble-head charm, 'Arry. It is difficult, but you may be able to do it."

"Well," the black-haired wizard replied with a tone of relief, "At least now we know what we need to do. Worlds better than I was feeling earlier."

At that, both witches leaned in and gave him a kiss. "It's all right Harry. We'll think of something before summer."

"Yes, 'Arry. Do not worry."

"Thanks, you two. And about the other thing," Harry looked a bit nervous, "I meant what I said. I love you, Hermione, I love you, Fleur." He took their hands and squeezed, feeling as he did so a little echo of the embrace he had received earlier.

"I feel ze same about both of you, as well." Fleur said with a meaningful glance.

"Me too," Hermione added. "Although I do worry a bit what my parents will think..."

Harry visibly blanched at this, but Fleur patted him on the arm calmly. "Another trouble for another time, oui?"

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Hermione had Winky apparate Fleur back to her bedroom in the Beauxbatons carriage after scouting for trouble. Then she and Harry headed out of the bath under the invisibility cloak, map in hand.

Though things had turned out well, it had been quite a busy and stressful evening for all of them; as a result, Hermione was distracted and Harry was not paying as much attention to the map as he might have. When he happened to catch something on it, he came to a complete stop, causing Hermione to run into him and the egg to fall onto the ground with a clatter.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed at him as she knelt and quickly retrieved the egg. "What is the matter with you! You're going to get us in trouble!"

At that moment and before he could reply, they heard the voice of Filch down the hallway. Muttering a curse, the young witch dragged Harry against the side of the hallway. "What?" She whispered.

"The map!" He replied. "It showed Crouch around here somewhere; Snape's office I think. What do you think he's doing here at this hour? Bagman said he wasn't even coming in to work!"

Suddenly they heard Snape's voice coming up the corridor as well. Hermione's heart sank. "Hide the map, Harry. We may be about to get caught." She muttered a silencing charm before he could reply, and they both stood very still.

Snape and Filch met each other only a few meters from the concealed pair. "Where are they, Professor Snape? I know I heard somethin' clanging over here, and that was after Peeves earlier. Sounded like a pot fallin'..." He looked around the empty corridor suspiciously.

"Someone has been in my office, Filch. Have you seen no one?" Snape sounded extremely irritated.

Filch now had a wide-eyed expression of glee on his face, no doubt thinking of torturing the students who had dared cross the personal space of the most foul-tempered professor in the school. "No, not yet, professor."

"Well keep looking!" The potions master grunted.

"Looking for who, Snape?" They heard a raspy voice call in time with a sudden thunking. A moment later Alastor Moody entered the hallway as well, with a decidedly cranky expression on his face.

Snape was silent, but Filch quickly replied, "Some students, Professor Moody. Out after curfew, making a racket with something out here. Professor Snape found someone had been in his office too-"

"Shut up, Filch!" Snape ordered furiously. Filch backed away.

"Is that right, Snape?" He proceeded to look the other man over carefully, his magical eye darting around until it was looking directly at Harry and Hermione.

With muted horror they watched the grizzled man's eyebrows raise as he whispered. "Potter?" Moody caught himself and stopped.

But Snape had apparently overheard. "Potter? You think that arrogant brat was in my office?" He paused, then stared at Moody fixedly.

"So someone was in there then?" Moody replied quickly.

Snape bit his lip. "It is not important."

"Of course it's important! Someone broke into your office."

"It may have been a student. Potter has, I believe, stolen potions ingredients in the past."

"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" said Moody. "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"

"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody," he said angrily "as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself."

Moody's face twisted into a smile. "Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye —"

"Dumbledore happens to trust me," said Snape through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!"

"He can trust you all he wants, but I know there are spots that don't come off." Moody glared at him. Snape grabbed hold of his left forearm with a pained expression.

"Go to bed, Snape."

"You don't have authority to order me around, Moody." Then he looked at the old man curiously. "You seem anxious to have me out of here." His eyes narrowed. "Potter. Why did you say his name, Moody?" Suddenly Snape looked around, angry.

"He's here, isn't he? Under that blasted invisibility cloak! Potter, damn it, where are you!"

"Got it out for the boy, haven't you Snape? You know Dumbledore's still wondering who put his name in the Goblet and confunded it." Moody looked at him appraisingly and Snape stopped cold.

Under the cloak, Harry was glad for the silencing charm. He was sure he'd gasped out loud when Snape yelled his name.

Finally Snape backed down under Moody's glare and stalked away. Filch did the same, looking around hopefully as he departed for some sign of the offender.

When it had been quiet for a moment, Moody called out softly. "Close one there, eh Potter, Granger?"

"You can see through invisibility cloaks?" Hermione asked after she dispelled the silencing charm.

"Comes in quite handy, too," he replied. "Looking into that egg, were you?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Well, stay out of Snape's way, Potter."

"Sir," Harry asked, "What did you mean about Snape?"

Moody eyed them both cautiously. "Let's just say he and Karkaroff have a few things in common," he growled. "Now, did you go into his office, either of you?"

Hermione and Harry shook their heads. He nodded, then looked at them closely. "Do you know who did?"

Harry wanted to tell him about Crouch, to ask what was going on, but he had no way to do so without revealing the map. Though he rather liked Moody for bouncing Malfoy up and down the halls, he was still not sure he could trust a man who put his class under the _Imperious_.

"No sir, we don't."

"Granger?" The auror asked.

"No, sir," she answered, following Harry's lead.

He watched them for another moment. "All right, you two."

"Sir," Harry asked hesitantly. "Who do you think did it? Does it have something to do with Karkaroff, or the Goblet?"

"Wasn't me, Potter, if that's what you're asking," he answered, then stared down the hallway after Snape. "But if there's one thing I do hate it's a Death Eater who went free."

With that revelation, Moody motioned them along. "Back to your tower now and don't get caught. Worked out that egg, by the way?"

Hermione favored him with a slight grin. "Yes, Professor."

"Sharp girl," he chuckled. "Keep that one, Potter. Stay safe."

Harry and Hermione were left alone and began walking back to the tower, this time with rather more caution. "What was Crouch doing here? And Snape, a Death Eater?" Harry queried.

"Well," Hermione said, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't know."

"Maybe Fleur's father can find out," Harry commented.

They made it back without further incident.

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Fleur Delacour woke up the next morning with a headache; after the stress of the previous night she had felt unable to sleep, and had not been able to drift off for a full hour after she returned to her room. Even then her dreams had been strange: inconstant flashes of images, some familiar and some not, accompanied by an omnipresent whispering.

Yawning, she fancied that she could hear the whispering even now.

The veela witch got up and began her day, all the while thinking about the two people who had turned her life completely on its head: Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Hermione's hasty declaration the night before had been all the more genuine for its unexpectedness, and Fleur admired her for not backing down. Harry had certainly needed some kind of reassurance.

She frowned at the memory of his naked back. She had felt something off when she touched him, but had not imagined it was anything as horrible as what he had showed them. Fleur had a hard time imagining that he had lived with that uncle of his for over a decade with no one to help him.

He was never going to live with him again if Fleur had anything to say about it.

As she dressed, Fleur thought of Harry at the first task, giving her courage and then demonstrating it handily himself. She was in love with him; she could admit it. He might be younger and a touch shorter, but she had never known anyone with the same gravity about him. Except perhaps for Hermione Granger.

The younger girl had been a wrinkle for her since the day they had first entered the Room of Requirement together, but the brown-haired witch had demonstrated time and again a level-headedness and sense of caring that rivaled the green-eyed wizard for whom they had both fallen. At times Fleur forgot how much younger Hermione was in fact; the younger witch could converse with her as an equal on any subject she could name. She had asked around and heard several Hogwarts professors seriously call Hermione the brightest witch of her age.

If Harry's daring and kindness had won him Fleur's affection, then it was Hermione's steadfast brilliance and loyalty that had won Fleur for her.

Fleur was under no illusions that they were to have an easy time of things. She had not described the situation in full detail to her parents even though she believed they would support her; they were generally very tolerant people and her father had not married a part-veela without facing his share of criticism for his chosen relationship. Of Hermione's parents she had no idea; muggles could be very open-minded, but certainly not all of them, and then not always about their own daughters.

And then of course there was Harry, whose fame made everyone in the wizarding world into a potential complaining in-law. They had already seen some of that from Molly Weasley (though her children seemed to have come around). It was going to be a battle, Fleur expected.

She hoped they could get through it. Harry did not need anyone else failing him.

Realizing it was a bit earlier than she had thought, Fleur elected to take a walk before breakfast. Just outside the carriage she spotted Madame Maxime, who was in turn watching a distant Hagrid give the horses their single-malt.

Fleur walked the other way. She was not the only one with issues outstanding.

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On Friday, the trio met in the Room of Requirement. Harry had had an absolutely awful afternoon of potions during which Snape had hovered over him offering continual criticism. Hermione had been powerless to prevent it and had watched with growing irritation; fortunately class ended before she exploded and they could be assigned detentions.

"The nerve of that man! I can't believe he was treating you that way, Harry!" Harry noted absently that Hermione had been taking Snape's criticisms of him quite personally of late.

Hermione had been rather strongly affected by the implication that Snape had been a Death Eater. It was one of the many questions that she wanted to ask of Albus Dumbledore.

"Nothing new, Hermione. Let's just forget it." Harry commented. "I'd rather get some work done."

Fleur had already written to her father about their suspicions regarding Snape; she had still not mentioned anything about her relationship. There were other things to worry about after all.

All three of them had been reading about potential dangers in the black lake; Harry had personally voiced the hope that they simply would not run into the giant squid. Even apart from that though, there were plenty of things to be concerned about.

At the top of the list was learning to breathe underwater.

"I saw Viktor Krum diving into ze lake zis morning, 'Arry," Fleur said.

"Well good then, we all know," Harry replied. He had been worried about whether to tell Krum or not.

This afternoon Fleur was going to demonstrate the bubble-head charm to them both. She also needed to work on the charm, since this would be a circumstance where her life would depend on it being functional and long-lasting.

She described it to the other two, noting Hermione's intense note-taking with fond amusement. The charm was quite complicated; it not only created an impermeable barrier but also a continually replenishing supply of fresh air. It took a fair bit of magic to employ for long periods of time, but none of them had managed to find anything better.

Both Harry and Hermione tired themselves out trying to cast the charm, which Fleur was able to demonstrate without trouble. She recommended that they take a break, so Harry spent some time working on banishing charms, for which he seemed to have a natural flair.

They also spoke of the mysterious appearance of Mr. Crouch in Snape's office. Harry had asked whether they might ask Winky, but the little elf had wailed and carried on so piteously about not revealing her old master's secrets that Hermione hadn't the heart to order her to disclose what she knew. Giving orders to Winky was bad enough for Hermione in any case; orders she was obviously hesitant to follow were just impossible.

With no further information, they had to assume that it had something to do with Snape's past.

Later, Hermione outlined her plan to discover Rita Skeeter, which she had been developing after hearing McGonagall's suggestion.

"This may take time," Hermione said, "and we'll need the map, Harry." He readily agreed. "Basically we are going to wait until we can see her present at the school or on the grounds, and Dobby and Winky will see whether she is visible. When we get the chance, we'll lead her along with some gossip to get her attention."

"And once we 'ave her attention?" Fleur asked.

"We lead her here, and ask the Room to be someplace she can't escape. Once she's inside we reveal her. McGonagall will back us up; she's spying on underage people. Plus, who knows how she's doing it anyway? It might be illegal."

"What if she escapes?" Harry asked, concerned.

"She will not, 'Arry." Fleur said icily.

"All right," Harry agreed. "So Winky will be watching the map then?"

"Yes, switching shifts with Dobby. We need Skeeter isolated, so it may be a while," Hermione cautioned.

Harry nodded. "It will be worth it."

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Weeks went by as the trio continued monitoring for Skeeter while keeping ahead of their regular work and making progress on the second task as well. It was quite busy, and all three went around a little grouchy when they were not in the presence of the others. Harry had sent off a letter to Sirius advising him of what was happening, but had received no reply.

Fleur suffered a few more headaches, and commiserated with Hermione over strange dreams brought on by stress. They were all feeling a little worn down.

It was two weeks before Hermione managed the bubble-head charm, and another three days before Harry managed it. Fleur was pleased; it was two years ahead of their current work and difficult even then. They resolved to spend the remainder of the time working on testing the duration of the charm. Harry secured knives for the two of them as a just-in-case measure, and focused on banishing charms to be used underwater.

Shortly after they had mastered the charm, Winky popped in excitedly and advised them that Skeeter had finally been spotted on the grounds with no one around. Within a hectic few moments, Harry had been apparated along by Dobby under his cloak, map in hand. The dot showed Skeeter near the greenhouses. He stood in silence and saw no sign of her, but then watched carefully as the dot with her name began to move.

He saw nothing at first, but then looked closer and walked forward a bit to cement his suspicions.

Dobby apparated them both back and Harry pulled off the cloak, grinning at the two witches.

"She's a beetle."

"What?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. "I saw her indicated on the map, and the beetle flying followed its course perfectly. No footprints or depressions in the grass or anything to indicate a concealed figure."

"Zis is excellent, 'Arry," Fleur said with a rather dark smile on her face.

"Why, Fleur?" Hermione asked.

"Because she is an animagus, but when my papa got 'is dossier on 'er, zere was no mention of a license for it."

"So it's illegal then?" Harry asked hopefully.

"With a very steep penalty, I believe," Hermione noted. "This is wonderful. We can stun her and capture her in an unbreakable jar, then interrogate her."

"Keep her from escaping in the Room of Requirement?" Harry hazarded. Hermione and Fleur nodded in reply.

"When do we do it?" Fleur asked.

"Next time she's here, I guess. We'll have Winky and Dobby on the lookout."

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The effects of Skeeter's article on the three of them had not gone away, but many of the students were coming around to their side thanks to the efforts of the Weasleys in Gryffindor and Cedric and Cho in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, respectively. Hate mail was a normal fixture of breakfast, but in the hallways it was mostly the Slytherins who harassed them.

Hermione was feeling a little tired after a late night and some more strange dreams when she was approached by Ginny Weasley one evening in the Gryffindor common room. "Hermione, can I have a word?"

The girl looked anxious and Hermione hoped this would not be a conversation about Fleur, Harry, and herself. "Sure Ginny, what's up?"

"It's Luna, you know, Luna Lovegood." Ginny frowned. "I think she's being bullied by some of the Ravenclaw girls."

Hermione recoiled. She had had no idea. "Really? Has she gone to any of the professors?"

"She hasn't said, but I'm sure she's worried that would make it worse. I was thinking that since Harry knows Cedric, and she's dating Cho..." The redhead looked at her hopefully.

"I'll have him ask, Ginny. If that doesn't stop it, we can always try something else."

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In the short term at least there seemed to be some relief for Luna, who was smiling happily a few days after Harry had a word with Cedric about the situation. She was still on bad terms with the Viktor Krum fangirls, but they all hoped it would die down soon. Ginny had contracted Neville to help out in watching for further harassment, and it seemed to be working. The blond Ravenclaw was only too happy to have Neville Longbottom around, and continually talked his ear off with what he described as "an odd line, but sort of cute, you know?"

Neville was smiling a good deal more these days.

In the meantime, Harry and Fleur buckled down for the second task, and Hermione with them. Harry received a reply from Sirius asking for the next Hogsmeade dates (with no further comments), and sent off a reply. He was not certain what Sirius was planning, but was rather worried nonetheless.

It was not until the evening before the task, however, that they were able to find an opportunity to bait Rita Skeeter.

Winky popped into the Room of Requirement and hurriedly announced her findings, waving the map. "Mistress Hermione! The awful bug lady is outside the castle, look!"

She was, and Harry and Fleur quickly put their plan into action as Dobby popped them some distance from Skeeter while Hermione followed with Winky, under the cloak and with the map in hand.

Rita Skeeter was out for any news she could find of the trio prior to the second task. To her immense irritation though, they had been like ghosts in Hogwarts, disappearing for hours at a time; she had gotten little from them except in the library. About to call it a night and head for her room at the inn in Hogsmeade, she stopped when she overheard something fantastic.

"But Fleur, are you sure? I've never, well, you know..." His voice trailed off nervously.

"Oh 'Arry, I will make eet very very good for you..." Fleur said in a husky voice as she trailed her index finger over the front of his robes.

"Well," he temporized.

Rita was ecstatic and moved to get a better vantage point. This was going to be her next killer article, she was certain. She could already imagine the story of the French veela going behind the muggleborn's back and having her way with the boy-who-lived!

It was the last thing she thought before Hermione's well-aimed stunner sent her into dreamland.

Rita awoke to find herself still in her animagus form, contained in a glass jar. In front of her stood an extremely angry looking Fleur Delacour, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter.

"I don't think you should try anything, Rita," Hermione commented viciously. "That jar has an unbreakable charm on it."

"What do we do wiz 'er tonight?" Fleur asked. "Eet iz getting late already."

Harry sighed. "As much as I want to deal with it now, we can't. Fleur and I need to rest for the task tomorrow. Want to talk with her after that?"

"OK Harry," Hermione said. Then she leaned close to the jar, and Rita could not help but back away from the young witch's fierce expression. "You'd better hope nothing happens to those two tomorrow or I might not be feeling very charitable. It would be easy to drop you in the lake and let the giant squid try to pry you out of that jar."

"Scary girl," Harry said with a smile. "But we'll be fine, right Fleur?"

"Of course, 'Arry," the beautiful witch tossed her head. "We'll deal wiz 'er later."

Rita was not at all sure she wanted to know what they had planned for her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Eight

AN: This one was a little while coming, but I like how it turned out. I've received so many encouraging reviews, and I really appreciate all of them. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter as well!

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**"The ardour which we do not share, chills us." - Coventry Patmore**

Fleur stood with a cloak draped over her swimsuit, enduring the attentions of the crowd and the none-too-warm February weather in front of the black lake. She had her wand with her, as well as the knife Harry had gotten for her. She was prepared, her charm work had been impeccable for the last few weeks of practice; she was confident that she could hold the bubble-head in place for two hours at a stretch, more than enough to finish the task.

The French veela, though, was not comforted by any of these facts. She had awoken with a strong sense of unease, and had felt decidedly anxious all morning. Worse yet, she had not seen Hermione.

Worst of all, the task was about to begin and Harry Potter was nowhere in sight.

Ludo Bagman was chattering away to the judges and to herself, Krum, and Diggory, but Fleur hardly heard a word of it. Had something happened to him? To both of them?

Her fears were allayed when she saw Albus Dumbledore smile absently and turn toward the school; from across the grounds came Harry Potter running like the devil was at his heels. He skidded to a stop in front of her to catch his breath.

"Sorry, I'm ready."

"Are you all right, 'Arry?" She asked, concerned.

He waved her away. "Had trouble sleeping, and then I fell asleep again. Then I couldn't wake up." He looked at her. "I'm all right. Have you seen Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry my boy, we were just getting to that." Bagman said with a grin. Fleur and Harry looked at him in confusion.

"You'll see later. Now, best get ready!" Then he turned to the crowd. " _Sonorus_!"

With his voice now booming, Bagman continued. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then."

When Bagman hit three, Harry looked to Fleur and they both nodded, tossing their robes aside and diving into the water.

The cold almost took his breath away, but he cast the bubble-head charm without issue. Krum and Diggory had disappeared, but Fleur was next to him, her own charm in place, smiling. Harry gave her a thumbs up and they proceeded to swim side by side.

Harry and Fleur had agreed beforehand to stick next to each other, as unlike the dragons the dangers in the lake might be taken down by teamwork (presumably). This proved to be a very wise decision as they encountered a swarm of grindylows that either of them might have had difficulty with alone, but together they were able to dispatch handily.

Harry was particularly proud of his use of the banishing charm to push water at high speeds; Fleur had complimented him on the idea when he had brought it up initially, and was employing it herself now with great success.

The pair continued on warily for a while, heading vaguely toward the center of the lake. Luckily, though, a figure appeared in the dark water a few feet away smiling happily. "Hello Harry, Fleur!"

It was Moaning Myrtle, who appeared to be pleased to help out. "You'll want to try that way," she pointed, "I'd go with you, but really they don't seem to like me very much."

"Thanks Myrtle," Harry spoke under the charm and hoped she could hear him. Either his words or gestures got through, and the ghost swam away.

Time, though, was beginning to run short as the merpeople's village came into view. Looking around, Harry's chest seized in horror when he saw Hermione tied to a stake, her hair floating eerily about her face.

She looked for all the world like she was dead.

Next to him Fleur had a similar moment of fear, and then compounded it by seeing her younger sister next to Hermione. The two champions looked at each other fearfully, then proceeded to draw their knives and cut away at the hostages' bonds, nervousness only partly assuaged. The verse, after all, indicated consequences for the time limit being exceeded.

A moment later, Cedric Diggory appeared and began doing the same with Cho Chang. As they all worked, a terrifying half-man, half shark appeared and Harry and Fleur drew their wands before they saw it amiably waving.

The shark, it seemed, was a transfigured Viktor Krum.

Krum made short work of his hostage's bonds; it was the small Luna Lovegood, looking unconcerned even in slumber as Krum swam away toward the surface.

Diggory was the next to go, pulling Chang into his arms and swimming away without a backward glance.

Finally Harry and Fleur finished cutting the thick cords. Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, floated into her arms peacefully. Harry grabbed Hermione and instinctively reached for her hand. Fleur saw his expression of concern and grabbed his shoulder, and then put a hand to Hermione's face for an instant.

An instant, though, was all it took. Gabrielle remained silent, but as soon as Fleur touched Hermione the younger girl's brown eyes flew open and she panicked. Hermione drew in at least part of a breath of water before managing to stop herself. Fleur and Harry felt an icy pulse run through them at the sight.

Now it was Harry's turn to panic. He leaned forward and decided in an instant the only possible course of action, since Hermione could not silently cast the spell. Harry simply cast another bubble-head charm around her.

The charm took and Hermione drew a shuddering breath, coughing up water into the bubble that the charm had to work furiously to expel. Harry felt his own head grow light as the magic expenditure of two complex charms on his already tired body began to take a toll. Fleur looked green also; in fact they almost felt that they were the ones who had swallowed the lake water.

Fleur gestured upward and began swimming to the surface with Gabrielle, making sure that Harry and Hermione kept pace with her. The blonde witch felt herself getting tired as well, and she could also feel a terrible pressure on the back of her skull. Whether it had been a blow from a grindylow that had gone unnoticed or something else she was not sure, but the surface of the lake seemed very far away.

All three of them offered some assistance to the others as they swam. When they finally broke the surface Harry felt the dual bubble-head charms break and nearly passed out. Across the way, at a fair distance, he saw the shore and the waiting crowd.

Gabrielle had awoken when they hit the surface as well, but none of them spoke as they swam exhausted to the shore. Harry helped push Gabrielle out of the water, then climbed out himself and offered a hand each to Fleur and Hermione. Once they were on shore with him he felt a profound sense of relief.

Harry never even heard the crowd as he lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

Fleur and Hermione fell with him, eyes closed and heedless of Gabrielle's scream of alarm.

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Harry dreamed: dreams of the Dursleys, dreams of his parents, and dreams of Hogwarts. He dreamed of Hermione and Fleur. He dreamed of flying.

He also dreamed of things he had not seen before: a pleasant house full of books, with kind parents; a home by the seashore with a small girl playing in the surf; a school of silence and bullying; a magic class; a library; a museum; a mountain. On and on the dreams went until the things he had not himself seen yet looked to him as things almost familiar.

Harry opened his eyes slowly to see early afternoon sun gilding the bedcovers. He yawned before recognizing where he was.

_Of course_ , he thought. _The hospital wing_.

Suddenly he recalled the second task, Hermione floating beneath the waves, awakening and almost drowning. He remembered Fleur dragging them along as best she could. He remembered a terrible pressure in his head as they made it to shore. He remembered collapsing.

Harry sat up to look for Hermione and Fleur and immediately heard a voice.

" _I'm here, Harry,_ " he heard her voice.

" _Are you well, 'Arry?_ " Fleur's voice came as well.

He sighed in relief as he looked over to see both girls smiling broadly at him in nearby beds. “ _I'm fine. Are you two all right?_ "

He felt a warm, calming feeling come over him as Hermione smiled at him. “ _We're wonderful Harry,_ " he saw small tears in her eyes. " _Wonderful_."

" _We were worried about you, 'Arry. You slept longer zan we did._ " He felt Fleur's tearful relief as well.

" _Everything's all right then._ " Harry put his head back onto the pillow and took a deep breath. They had survived the second task and Hermione was safe. Only one more to go.

" _Isn't he going to realize?_ " He heard Hermione giggling.

" _Soon enough, 'Ermione,_ " Fleur's amusement tickled him.

"What?" He said, sitting up again.

And then Harry realized that that had been the first word anyone had spoken since he had woken up.

As he felt a moment of confusion and panic, he felt a wave of concern and care come to him. In it, he recognized Fleur and Hermione. Tentatively, he reached out and pushed back with some of his own feelings, relief that they were all right and wonder at what was happening. His eyes went wide.

Immediately he saw the two girls smile excitedly. "S _o eet eez all three of us, zen_ ," Fleur sent to both of them.

" _This is amazing, Harry!_ " The other two could feel Hermione's overpowering excitement. " _Fleur thinks it's some sort of soul bond!_ "

" _Soul bond? What is that?_ " Harry wondered, sending it almost unconsciously to the two girls.

"S _o far as I know, zey are connections to a soul mate, 'Arry._ " Fleur looked at him with love in her eyes. " _I 'ave 'eard they are very rare._ "

Harry, who could feel the strong emotion coming from both girls, felt almost overwhelmed. He did his best to communicate his own feelings as they had. In response, Hermione squirmed and smiled, and Fleur got out of her bed.

"I think that you deserve a kiss for that, 'Arry," she said as she walked over to him. Hermione made to stand up as well and they both sat next to him before they heard voices outside the door.

An unfamiliar, gravelly voice: "You will not put me off, Headmaster! I am not leaving here until I speak with Harry Potter. If he hasn't woken yet then I'll just keep waiting."

A brisk, businesslike tone. "Give me a moment to check on the three of them, then." Harry grinned. That would be Madam Pomfrey.

"May we as well?" The voice was unknown to Harry apart from a vague feeling of familiarity until he felt Fleur sending.

" _My maman,_ " she indicated. They waited a moment before the door opened slowly.

Madam Pomfrey walked in quietly, then smiled as she saw them sitting up. "Excellent. How are you feeling, you three? You had us a bit worried."

" _How long were we asleep?_ " Harry sent to the girls. Both replied with uncertainty.

" _We only woke a half hour before you did,_ " Hermione indicated.

"I'm feeling much better, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said. "Can you tell me how long I've been asleep?"

The witch frowned, but before she could speak an attractive blonde woman and a middle-aged man stepped inside, smiling. "Maman, Papa!" Fleur said happily before standing and hugging first the woman, then the gentleman.

"As I was saying, Mr. Potter, you have been asleep for a while. It's Friday afternoon, twenty-sixth of February." She began checking Harry over with her wand, looking satisfied with the results. She was moving on to Hermione when Fleur spoke again.

"'Arry, 'Ermione, these are my parents: Apolline and Charles Delacour."

Harry stood, ignoring the glare Madam Pomfrey sent his way. He held out his hand to Fleur's father first. "I'm glad to meet you, sir. Thank you for all your help."

"Of course Mr. Potter, glad to help a... friend of my daughter." Before Harry could reply, Mrs. Delacour offered her hand, which he kissed after a hesitant thought at Fleur.

"Very nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Delacour."

"He's very charming, Fleur," the woman smiled. "And this would be Miss Granger?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you." The older witch drew Hermione into a hug.

"It's good to meet you as well, Mr. Delacour," the girl said politely after the older woman released her.

He nodded. "I've been anxious to talk with you all, even before this business." He glanced at Madam Pomfrey, who was looking over Fleur with an approving nod.

"They seem to be fine. I will want them here for a bit longer, however..." Her voice trailed off as she looked pensive. "Perhaps I should let our other visitors in as well." The witch looked over her three patients. "You'll find a change of clothes near your beds. I'll draw the curtains for you, so go ahead and get dressed."

So saying, she left them alone. A few minutes later, she returned leading two people: Albus Dumbledore and a goblin.

It took a moment, but then Harry's memory clicked. "Mr. Griphook?"

The goblin looked at him appraisingly. "Yes, Mr. Potter. I did not think that you would remember me." He gestured toward the portfolio in his hand. "I know that you have had something of an ordeal this week, but we have a great deal to discuss."

"Perhaps now is not the best time, Griphook," Dumbledore stated evenly. "The three of them have been through rather a difficult experience and have only just awakened."

The goblin rounded on him. "Our letters have been sent back multiple times, _not_ unopened mind you,  and we have had no word of the young man or his... _friends_. This is critical! He needs to understand what has occurred."

"What does he mean, Headmaster?" Harry sounded suspicious. Did they already know about the soul bond?

Dumbledore sighed and conjured a few chairs for the visitors, then turned and sealed the door. "Very well, Griphook. But please allow me to ask them a few questions before you begin."

"Of course," the goblin temporized as he sat down.

Motioning for the others to sit as well, Dumbledore sighed again.

"Sir," Hermione called out, "Can you tell me why I woke up underwater in the lake? I assume that was unforeseen."

"Yes, Ms. Granger, it was." He looked at the three tiredly. "This will be rather difficult to explain to the three of you."

Harry instantly communicated his disquiet with the two girls.

" _I think zat we should say what it eez we have discovered, 'Arry_ ," Fleur sent. " _Ze old man knows some of it already. 'Ermione and myself 'ave already compared notes about what we think 'appened during ze task._ "

" _Can we trust him?_ " Hermione sent to them.

" _We can tell them this. And don't worry; no one is going to take either of you away from me now._ " Harry felt a strong reaction to his resolve, and could not help but relax. Having the girls there with him, connected to him, felt very natural.

" _Let me talk then. For the moment anyway._ " Harry and Fleur both assented to Hermione's request.

"Let me say this headmaster, I can guess some of it." She watched as every eye in the room fell on her. "Harry, Fleur, and myself became magically connected at some point this year. During the task their concern somehow magically awakened me." She eyed the headmaster. "Is that right?"

He looked surprised, but not over so. "Indeed Ms. Granger, that is what I believe to be the case. I assume that the bond has been forming for a few weeks; you may have noticed some side effects recently."

All three of them thought about the strange dreams and the headaches. " _The wind!_ " Fleur sent. " _When we kissed, in ze garden, do you remember?_ "

Both Harry and Hermione started. " _So this started back then, you think?_ " Harry wondered.

" _It was a pretty powerful moment, Harry,_ " Hermione answered.

All three felt a little happier knowing where things seemed to have begun.

Hermione replied to the headmaster's observation. "Yes sir, I think we have. And based on Mr. Griphook here coming to visit Harry, this is more than just a connection among us? It's changed other things somehow?"

Again, he nodded. "Yes, the phenomenon is very rare. It is known as-"

Even as he spoke, Harry sent to Hermione and Fleur that he would interject. "A soul bond, right sir?"

"Yes," he affirmed, looking quizzically at Harry. "That is indeed the term, Harry."

"This is true?" Mrs. Delacour stood up and looked and Harry and Hermione in astonishment. "So you two are soul bound?"

"Actually, maman," Fleur interjected, "We are all three bound to one another."

Mrs. Delacour fell back into her seat with a look of shock on her face. "Fleur, vraiment?"

The veela witch nodded.

"Extraordinary," Madam Pomfrey whispered, and the others could not help but agree.

"Harry, Ms. Granger, Ms. Delacour," Dumbledore spoke up again, "A soul bond of two people is a very rare occurrence; there have been perhaps ten in the last two centuries that we know of. A bond with three is not something we have reliable documentation of, although it has been rumored to have occurred in the past." He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "So you see it is most amazing."

"What is known of these bonds, sir?" Hermione asked. Privately, she had already resolved to head to the library at the first available opportunity.

"Couples have been known to sense each other at great distances, in some cases even read thoughts and emotions. Resistance to mind magics of many varieties has been documented. And of course the parties involved share their souls," he frowned a bit, "They cannot be parted and are... connected for all time."

"By connected, sir, what do you mean?" Harry asked.

" _We are bound by love, 'Arry, 'Ermione._ "

" _It feels very right somehow._ " Harry agreed.

" _Does this mean, I wonder, with Griphook here and all..."_

"You three are married, Harry. An unbreakable magical bond has formed between you.”  The old wizard’s expression was carefully neutral as he relayed this information.  

The outpouring of excitement he felt from the two girls took Harry by surprise. " _You're both happy with this? The three of us?_ " He sent tentatively.

" _Harry I've never been so happy in my life! I can feel what you both are feeling, and they can't separate us!_ "

" _She eez right 'Arry. You can feel it too, yes? We are with you, love._ "

Harry felt tears on his cheeks, then looked up to notice matching ones on the two girls. He moved closer and they put their arms around each other.

"Oh Fleur, I'm so 'appy for you!" Her mother cried.

"Please take care of our daughter, Hermione and Harry. I do not doubt your feelings for one another," Mr. Delacour smiled and put his arms around his wife. "Indeed, I believe it will be only the very committed who will do so now."

Harry meanwhile was ecstatic; only the happiness radiating from the two girls was keeping him grounded. After a lifetime of misery, to know that he would never again be without people who loved him was almost too much to take.

It made him feel wonderful, and he knew, now, that Fleur and Hermione felt the same.

After hearing Madam Pomfrey sniffling into a handkerchief in the corner, Griphook cleared his throat. He was thrilled to be witness to such an incredible event, but he had a job to do.

"Mr. Potter, perhaps now I can tell you why I am here?"

Harry nodded for him to continue, noticing a slump in Albus Dumbledore's shoulders.

"According to the records of Gringotts Bank and the British Ministry of Magic, as of November the twenty-fourth at 10:17 AM you are legally an adult wizard, entered into a triple marriage with a Hermione Jean Potter née Granger and Fleur Isabelle Potter née Delacour. Incidentally, this means that you, Mrs. Potter," the goblin inclined his head to indicate Hermione, "are also a legal adult witch as of that time and date. Your parents, as well as those of the other Mrs. Potter, may wish to negotiate a bride-price of some sort, according to your customs."

Harry suddenly felt incredible apprehension in Hermione, and was feeling some of his own as well. " _It's fine, Hermione, Fleur and I will be there with you. They will understand._ "

Hermione bit her lip and nodded.

It was quite a jump for Harry, who had had no control over his life previously. Suddenly his choices were validated and he was responsible for himself. Also, apparently, responsible for Fleur and Hermione. Where would they live? Would he have to leave school? What would McGonagall say? He began to panic a bit before he felt Fleur offer comfort.

"' _Arry, everything is fine. I know you 'ave to finish your education, and so does 'Ermione. I will not 'ave to return to Beauxbatons next year either; do not worry. I will stay with you both. We will make it work._ "

" _Oh Fleur, thank you!_ " Hermione's relief came over both of them. " _I didn't know what to say; I immediately felt like we were holding you back._ "

Harry felt Fleur's amusement. " _I 'ave never been so comfortable as I am with you two; you could never hold me back._ "

"Maman, papa, can we discuss this later?" Fleur asked out loud. Both parents indicated their assent, and Harry motioned for Griphook to continue.

"You may be wondering why this marriage is binding, along with the immediate legal majority. These magical bonds cannot be formed except by the consent and love of those involved; to attempt to break such a bond is both an evil thing and one dangerous to the bonded persons. In the past and even today, there are those who take exception to a magical bonding when it is not to their liking or contrary to their purposes. Laws were agreed upon by the International Confederation of Wizards to insure that a soul bond was never endangered by family or angered suitors." The goblin's tone indicated the gravity of the situation.

The trio nodded. It made sense in that context; not everyone would like such a decision to be taken out of their hands, so bonded partners needed legal protection.

"Now, the remainder of this," he indicated the portfolio, "concerns your inheritance and standing in Gringotts, Mr. Potter, and does not concern other parties. We may discuss it here or alone, as you wish, but I do strongly urge you to address the matter sooner rather than later."

" _What about Dumbledore?_ " Harry sent to the two girls.

" _He's a bad person to alienate, Harry. Even if he did seal the wills he must have an idea of what was in the estate_."

" _I think you should let him stay, 'Arry. 'e does not know what we suspect._ "

"We can go over it now, Mr. Griphook, " Harry said.

"Just Griphook, Mr. Potter."

"Then just Harry, Griphook." Harry grinned.

The goblin chuckled. "Very well. We will need to issue a new key for you here, and any others of your choosing as well; any previously issued keys will be invalidated. I will of course be leaving a copy of these documents with you once this is concluded."

"Might I have my pad and a pen, please?" Hermione asked. Madam Pomfrey took the opportunity to head to her office after locating Hermione's bag, and the others remained in place.

With Hermione attentive and equipped, Griphook opened the portfolio and began going through its contents.

"The first item you are already familiar with, Harry: vault 687, your trust vault. It presently holds a value of one thousand, one hundred and sixteen galleons, four sickles, and three knuts, and was originally scheduled to be refilled on your birthday. Now that you have reached your majority, you may choose to keep this vault open, repurpose it, or just fold it into the main Potter vault, 702."

"Refilled?" Harry asked, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the others.

"Yes Harry, the vault was only intended to be used until you turned seventeen. Moving on, vault 702 contains, at present, one hundred thirty three thousand and twelve galleons, ten sickles, and eight knuts." He paused at the astonished gasp of the company.

Hermione had dropped her pen, while Fleur and her parents stood amazed. Harry looked at Griphook uncomprehendingly. "Surely that cannot be right?"

Dumbledore was notably silent.

"It is quite accurate Harry, and I will try to take your indication that we might be in error about your accounts in the spirit of incredulity in which it was intended, and not as the insult we might otherwise."

"Griphook," Hermione began shakily, “That’s thirty-three million sterling.  Is that _all_ Harry's?"

"Yes Mrs. Potter, although naturally at present, barring any restrictions by the principal account holder, it belongs to you and your wife as well."

Hermione took a deep breath. Then she took another, and was getting ready to hyperventilate when Harry drew her into a hug. "Hermione, I'm just as surprised as you are. Just calm down. This is good news, right?" He looked into her eyes. " _Solves a few problems, doesn't it?_ "

Next to them, Fleur snorted. " _And 'ere I thought I might 'ave to get a job to support my poor student husband and wife!_ "

Hermione could not help but laugh at that.

"I'm sorry Griphook, this is all just very new to me. I had no idea any of this existed really."

"That is most unfortunate, Harry.  We have had information sent to you before of course, but it has been interdicted for quite some time without our knowledge." Here the goblin sent a glare at the still-silent Dumbledore. "In any case, those are the primary liquid holdings. We can provide a basic review of your muggle holdings as outlined by Lily Potter, and then your properties if you like."

"Properties?" Hermione asked. "As in plural?  Harry had houses he could have lived in?"

Griphook shook his head and tried not to sound frustrated. "Yes, Mrs. Potter. His family, or rather _your_ family, has several wizarding properties, in fact."

Harry immediately felt Hermione and Fleur becoming angry. " _Calm down! It's in the past now; like you said, I never have to go back to Privet Drive._ "

" _But 'Arry, zis is too terrible!_ "

" _Yes it is! If we find out Dumbledore arranged this I'm going to punch him!_ "

" _It's fine! I've both of you now, and apparently money and a place to live. I've never felt better about things than I do right now._ ”

“ _Well all right Harry, but we had better find out about what was invested in the muggle economy._ ”

“ _Why don’t you ask him, then?_ ”

“Griphook,” Hermione began, “You implied that the muggle holdings were managed differently and that you have an overview provided by Harry’s mother, is that right?”

The goblin grinned.  “Indeed, Mrs. Potter.  Gringotts does not manage those resources in the muggle world; Mrs. Lily Potter created several investment portfolios after her marriage, and it is from those that we receive financial data.  The overview to which I referred merely outlines the principal investments as reported by the muggle firms which manage them directly.”

“I take it that’s not usual?”  Harry asked.

“No ‘Arry, it is not.  Most magical people have no real contact with the muggle world, and certainly never invest money there.”  Fleur answered.  “Gringotts provides facilities for secure transactions and liaisons to such firms, but they are not at all usual.”

Griphook nodded along with the French witch’s summary.  “Well said Mrs. Potter.  We convert money for muggle families and then eventually exchange it for precious metals in the muggle world, but we do not work directly there.  Your mother,” he looked at Harry, “was quite revolutionary in that respect.”

Hermione noted that Dumbledore frowned at that last comment.  “ _I think we should get the specifics later.  Just ask for an overall estimate, Harry._ ”

“ _Yes, your ‘eadmaster appears to be quite put out._ ”

“Griphook, I would like to go over the whole thing later, but can you just give me an estimate?”

“Certainly, Harry.”  The goblin leafed through the folder for a minute, then looked up and met Harry’s eyes.  “With the last business day’s figures, around four hundred seventy five thousand galleons.”

In the total silence that followed, Harry faintly asked Griphook for the documents to sign.  He had to use a blood quill for each of them, along with the newly-minted Mrs. Potters. Both witches were granted full access to the entire estate with new keys, something they seemed a bit uncomfortable with.

" _Why does this bother you two?_ " Harry sent softly.

" _Oh Harry it's just too much! I feel as though I am taking advantage of you!_ "

" _Me also, 'Arry. Zis belongs to you._ "

" _Absolutely not! It belongs to all of us. How could I be that attached to it anyway? I didn't know any of it existed before this afternoon!_ "

"Harry," Griphook said, not aware of the silent conversation. "One final matter: do you wish Gringotts to continue your accounts as they are at present?"

Harry looked up, then over to the girls at his side. "What do you two think?"

Fleur spoke first. “'Arry, I think that is very reasonable until we can review the accounts in detail.  Griphook,” she turned to face the goblin, “is there at present a primary liaison for these accounts?”

“No, Mrs. Potter.”

Hermione nodded. "He has all the information current and up to date, and seems like a fair person." She looked at Harry and Fleur.  “Shall we let him handle reporting to us?”

Both of them assented.  

The goblin was stunned. This might be something to be hoped for in the future, but it was only his chance prior meeting with Harry Potter that had enabled him to get this assignment in the first place. "I am honored that you think so highly of me.  I will keep you informed of any changes and provide whatever access you need to the appropriate muggle firms and wizarding properties.  I will be at your disposal by owl.”

His business concluded, Griphook confirmed that nothing further was needed at present, then offered them all a very polite farewell and exited the hospital wing.

HPHPHPHP

As Griphook departed, Harry turned to Fleur's parents, who had been largely silent throughout the affair. "I am sorry to spring this all on you both; I'm pretty surprised myself about everything, but I can't imagine any two people I would rather spend my life with than Hermione and Fleur." He paused to take both witches' hands, steeling himself. "May we have your blessing?  For this marriage, I mean?"

"Of course, Harry." Mr. Delacour stood to hug his daughter and new daughter- and son-in-law. Mrs. Delacour quickly followed suit.

"It is a wonderful thing to see you bonded this way, all of you."

Charles Delacour looked meaningfully at Harry, then briefly at Dumbledore. Harry shook his head.

"Where is Gabrielle?" Fleur asked.

"Resting in the rooms we've been provided. She has been at your side a great deal, Fleur," her father answered.

" _Why don't we handle Dumbledore first_ ," Hermione suggested to the other two. " _It might be a good idea to have an excuse to leave if things don't go the way we like._ "

“ _Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us figuring out those muggle investments later too.  What about your parents, Fleur?_ " Harry asked.

" _I will 'ave them go to Gabrielle for now._ "

"Maman, papa, we 'ave things to discuss with ze headmaster right now. May we join you later?"

Both parents agreed, though Mr. Delacour glared at Dumbledore before taking his leave.

"I believe that we should continue this in my office, Harry," Dumbledore indicated. He seemed tired.

"Certainly, sir," Harry answered. He knew this would be a difficult conversation.

After Madam Pomfrey was advised of their plans, Dumbledore led the three along in silence to his office.

" _What should we ask about?_ " Harry wondered.

" _Why Voldemort is after you, 'Arry._ " Fleur answered.

" _Also about the Dursleys and your inheritance._ " Hermione noted.

" _What about, you know, marriage? Living arrangements?_ " Harry was unable to keep his mind clear of imagery accompanying this question and felt quite embarrassed.

" _Well, I don't know if I'm ready for... anything physical._ " The young witch's nervousness colored her remarks, and Fleur reassured her.

" _We are all nervous, 'Ermione, but that does not mean we cannot be together._ "

" _Do you think we could? Live together at Hogwarts I mean?_ " Harry was curious.

" _Honestly, have you ever read_ Hogwarts: A History _? Married students do come up occasionally you know_."

" _So we could then? Would you both want to?_ "

Fleur had to stop herself from audibly laughing. " _Instead of staying in the carriage? Yes, I think I would rather stay with my 'usband and wife._ "

" _It's still strange to think that,_ " Harry noted.

" _But not unpleasant, is it?_ "

Both Hermione and Harry smiled at the kind honesty of Fleur's reply.

" _No, it is definitely very pleasant,_ " Hermione thought warmly.

HPHPHPHP

"So Harry, young ladies, this has been quite a remarkable few days for you, has it not?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling, once they had all seated themselves. He seemed a bit more alert on his home ground.

"Sir, there are a few things I want to ask you." Harry spoke with an even tone.

"As I knew you would, Harry," Dumbledore sounded gentle and accommodating.

" _He must be more confident in his own office,_ " Harry felt Hermione send. " _Ask him about Voldemort first._ "

" _Why Voldemort?_ "

" _Because 'e is expecting you to ask about ze estate, 'Arry,_ " Fleur commented.

Harry decided to follow their advice. "Sir, back in first year you said I could know why Voldemort wanted to kill me when I was older." Harry looked the older wizard in the eyes. "I would like you to tell me the truth now."

Dumbledore's eyes widened for a moment before he mastered himself. "Harry, my boy, it is not something you need to be concerned with right now. You are only-"

"Only what? Fourteen? Married? Heir to a fortune I knew nothing about?" Harry leaned forward and continued angrily, "Sir I have nearly been killed every year at Hogwarts, and this one seems to be no exception. Someone put my name in that Goblet and it wasn't to make sure I ended up bloody well married to Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger!"

Hermione and Fleur fixed the headmaster with frowns, but inwardly were cheering their wizard on.

"I am a legal adult, Professor Dumbledore. If you will not tell me what you know I will be forced to act for my own safety."

At this Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow. "And what would that entail, Harry?"

"How about leaving Hogwarts for a start?" Hermione interjected. "I'm sure we could find excellent accommodations elsewhere for the Boy-Who-Lived and his two soul-bonded wives."

"Miss Granger-"

"Mrs. Potter, thank you," she commented loftily.

Dumbledore frowned. "Mrs. Potter, I think it would be a grave mistake to leave this school."

"But why, 'eadmaster? Surely you see that we must have a reason for zis? If Voldemort is after 'Arry Potter then we all should know why."

"Sir, if you don't tell us right now, we will leave and I will use all the influence I have to find out what is going on, very publicly." Harry threatened. "And I seem to have discovered today that I have rather more resources than I ever suspected."

The old wizard sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Very well, I will tell you. But please understand that no one else should be told this information." He paused, then spoke. "This goes back many years, to something I heard during an interview."

"An interview?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter, an interview for a Divination professor. In general I regard it as rather a wooly subject myself, as I believe you do as well, but there are true seers, and the person I was interviewing was in the lineage of one. Alas, as the interview proceeded it seemed all too evident that she lacked the sight herself. Then just as I was about to conclude the meeting, she delivered a real prophecy. Let me show it to you."

Dumbledore got up from his desk and withdrew a silver basin from a nearby cabinet. "Have any of you heard of a pensieve before?"

Fleur looked at the object, astonished. "There are only a few in ze world! Zey show you memories, correct?"

"Indeed Ms., ah, Mrs. Potter. What I am about to show you is a projection of my memory of that evening." They all leaned closer as Dumbledore placed his wand to his head and concentrated, then drew a silvery strand from it and into the pensieve. He tapped the side and a figure formed, a woman in a small wooden room.

"Professor Trelawney?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"She's a true seer?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Indeed Mrs. Potter, though true prophecies come but rarely. Watch." The memory began playing.

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES... BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES... AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT... AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES... THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES..."

When Trelawney's uncharacteristically forceful voice faded, the memory ended. Harry looked on with wide eyes.

"How do you know it _was_ a true prophecy, professor?" Hermione pressed.

It was Harry who answered in a quiet tone. "It's real. She did the same sort of thing last year, a prophecy that Pettigrew would return to Voldemort."

Hermione looked at him, astonished, and Harry asked, "So that's why he killed my parents?"

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "The odd thing is that it may not have meant you at all. Sybill's prophecy could have applied to two wizard boys, both born at the end of July that year, both sets of parents having narrowly escaped Voldemort three times. One, of course, was you. The other was Neville Longbottom."

"Neville..." Harry whispered. "Are his parents dead, then?"

"No." Here Dumbledore looked pained. "Frank and Alice Longbottom were tortured into insanity. They are at St. Mungo's."

Harry could only look on in mute horror. It was Fleur who asked the next question.

"'ow did Voldemort hear of the prophecy? And why would 'e attack 'Arry if it might mean that 'e would be 'is equal?"

"I did not meet Sybill Trelawney in Hogwarts; we met at the Hog's Head Inn; naturally I did not imagine overhearing anything of such importance. An agent of the Dark Lord at the time overheard, but only the first part of the prophecy, telling of the child."

There was silence for a moment before Harry felt a spike of absolute cold from Hermione. She looked at him, then spoke to Dumbledore. "How do you know that the person who overheard the prophecy only heard the first part?"

Dumbledore did not reply immediately, so Hermione continued. "If they wanted Voldemort dead or something, they would not have told him at all, or perhaps given him only part of the story. But you didn't say that this _might_ have happened. You said that the person definitely overheard only part of the prophecy. An 'agent of the Dark Lord _at the time_ ,' you said. The only way you could know that is if they turned later, right?" The brown haired witch was furious now, and Fleur and Harry felt it boiling off of her.

"Ms. Granger," Dumbledore tried to interrupt.

"It is MRS. POTTER, sir." She glared at him. "It was Snape, wasn't it? He overheard it didn’t he?” Harry and Fleur gasped, and Dumbledore's expression betrayed him. "I knew it.”  The young woman said hatefully.  “We knew he used to be a Death Eater, and he's the only one you have in this castle. He's the youngest member of the staff, and a head of house on top of that. He loathes Harry and torments him at every turn, yet he goes totally unpunished—“

Dumbledore stood up angrily. "That is enough! Severus Snape has my complete confidence!”

"After he betrayed my parents and Neville's to Voldemort?" Harry was on his feet as well, eyes flashing with anger. "So he was a Death Eater? Did he know Pettigrew was one too? Was he leaving Sirius in Azkaban to rot all on his own, or were you both in on that one?"

When Dumbledore turned to Harry, Fleur stepped quickly between them and raised her wand. Hermione was not far behind. "Do not threaten my 'usband, Albus Dumbledore." Fleur's blue eyes were cold. "If you did this thing, we will not allow you to escape justice."

Seeing that he was not making any headway with anger, Dumbledore raised his empty hands and said calmly, "He did not know that Peter Pettigrew was a Death Eater; no one did that we were aware of." He looked suddenly very tired. "After Voldemort fell, we all thought that Sirius Black was guilty. That put everything and everyone under suspicion even more than before." The old wizard sighed. "That is why I placed you with the Dursleys, Harry. I could not take care of you myself, and there was no one to be trusted in the wizarding world."

Fleur and Hermione lowered their wands at a mental signal from Harry.

"May we all take our seats again, please?"

Harry nodded and sat down. The girls and Dumbledore followed suit.

"So you admit to sealing the wills of Harry's parents then, denying him his inheritance?” Hermione asked, still upset.

"Yes, I did. As I said, I could trust no one.”

“Yet you trusted Snape,” Hermione said accusingly.  “And you trusted the Dursleys with Harry over everyone else in the whole of Britain!”

"We 'ave seen what 'appened to 'im living there," Fleur said darkly. "Yet you send 'im back year after year?"

Dumbledore opened his mouth, then closed it without answering.

"'Arry Potter is NEVER going back to those people." Fleur's voice was vicious.

"You must understand that he was also protected there," Dumbledore managed. "There are powerful wards from his mother's blood through her sister that defend him from Voldemort and his followers."

Hermione made a dismissive gesture. "I agree with Fleur. He is not to go back there."

Harry nodded his assent, and Dumbledore looked at his desk. "Very well. I do not think it is wise, but you are adults now. I strongly urge you to reconsider, but if not, allow me to observe the warding of any place you choose to stay."

"We will certainly consider that, sir," Harry said tightly.

After that exchange, Fleur sent to both of them. " _What about at 'ogwarts?_ "

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione said, "We would like to request married quarters, all three of us."

The headmaster looked at her. "You intend to announce your marriage?  That may not be wise—”

"We are happy to be together, sir," she answered proudly. She felt a burst of warmth from both Fleur and Harry at that.

"I worry about what will be printed—“

"Oh don't concern yourself, professor," Hermione commented. "We have plans for that."

Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow and nodded. "If it is what you all want, we may speak with Professor McGonagall and Madame Maxime today. You must of course inform your friends as you see fit."

"Also, sir, I will not take any further classes with Snape. I wish to engage," he paused and thought at Hermione, " _What was it again?_ "

" _Private tuition,_ " she answered.

"Private potions tuition from another master. I also intend to offer it to a few of my friends."

The headmaster looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded slowly. "Very well Harry, if you intend to pay for it then it is of course your affair."

" _He capitulated rather easily, didn't he?_ " Hermione noted.

" _Perhaps 'e wishes not to antagonize us further?_ "

" _Whatever the reason I'll take it to keep Snape away from us. If all it takes is money to hire a master, then at least I've some use for that vault now._ "

"Thank you sir," Harry said. "There is also another matter I would like to mention."

"The former Ms. Granger's parents, perhaps?"

Harry felt a cold lump in his stomach at that, despite Fleur and Hermione's eager reassurances.

"No, though that is something else we could use your help with later. It's the basilisk. I intend to have the goblins take a look at it and sell it."

The wizened old headmaster looked as if he was about to object, but then thought better of it. "Of course, Harry. May I," Dumbledore paused to measure his words, "May I have some input as to how this is reported, as it may have negative consequences for the school?"

Harry nodded, happy to agree with that. "Yes sir. I will let you know before it happens."

"Professor, could you escort my parents here to meet us? They can see Fleur's parents as well. I need to tell them, and it would be useful to have you there."

"I will do so, yes. I can send an owl presently."

Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts. " _What's next? I feel exhausted already._ "

" _The beetle?_ "

" _Sounds good to me. We need to have her announce this business of our marriage. Let's talk to McGonagall and Maxime, then we can get her._ " Hermione suggested. Fleur and Harry acquiesced.

"We have a few things to take care of with Professor McGonagall and Madame Maxime, can you call them here, Professor?"

HPHPHPHP

After all the emotional confrontations so far, and knowing what was yet to come, Harry had a hard time not laughing hysterically at Professor McGonagall's expression when Hermione announced their three-way bond and marriage. Doing his best to seem serious, he solemnly affirmed the truth of Hermione's words to his head of house.

While McGonagall moved to speak with Dumbledore, Harry sent a quiet inquiry at Fleur, who was speaking in hushed tones with a visibly emotional Madame Maxime.

" _Everything is fine, 'Arry, she is just overwhelmed I think. She says she is very 'appy that you both accept me._ "

" _Accept you?_ " Harry sent back, curious.

" _She is sensitive about blood, 'Arry. Remember your friend 'Agrid at the ball?_ "

" _Yeah, maybe seeing us will make it easier for her to apologize._ "

" _I hope so too, Harry. That article really hurt him._ " Hermione added.

" _Speaking of, should we go deal with Skeeter now?_ " Harry asked.

" _Well, these three should finish organizing our quarters themselves, so we can at least ask,_ " Hermione noted. "Professor," she called to McGonagall, "May we be excused for a while? We can meet back here when Professor Dumbledore returns with my parents."

Harry could not help feeling a shiver of dread.

"If that is amenable to Professor Dumbledore and Madame Maxime, we can set about getting your quarters organized for this evening." The witch stopped, then looked seriously at Harry. "You are adults, but I nevertheless expect proper behavior."

The young wizard nodded as he endured the additional almost-parental badgering. "Of course, Professor." Hermione echoed his sentiments.

Dumbledore offered no further questions about their outing, but added that he would notify Dobby when Hermione's parents arrived.

Harry, Hermione, and Fleur made their way to the Room of Requirement, where Harry determined that asking for a room that would let them "talk to Skeeter but not allow a beetle to escape" would be best. The room in question turned out to be rather stark, with a plain table and chairs and curved walls meeting in a seamless domed ceiling.

"I think I should get my cloak and take her wand as soon as she transforms out of her animagus form," Harry observed as they looked over the room. "All right?"

Both girls nodded. "Even though I doubt she'll attack us, she has been in that jar rather longer than I had intended," Hermione commented.

Fleur laughed. "Winky, Dobby," she called out. Both elves appeared, then looked at her curiously.

"Why was we able to hear Miss Fleurse's so easily?" Winky wondered aloud. Then she peered closely at Hermione, and exclaimed, "You is bonded! All of you!"

Dobby looked at his master in wide-eyed amazement before taking his hands and doing an impromptu dance. "Dobby is so happy for Master Harry Potter! He has two witches who has bonded with him!"

Hermione meanwhile was the subject of similar excitement from Winky. "Oh mistress, Winky is so happy to be having a whole family again! Will you be living all together in the castle? Is it you who the new little quarters is being made for?"

"Yes Winky, it is," Fleur answered her.

"We'll be moving in there later today," Hermione said, "but for now we need your help with Skeeter."

"The beetle lady?" Dobby asked with a frown.

"Yes Dobby. I need my cloak. Winky can get the jar and bring it here for us, but only after you bring the cloak so she can't see that I'm here, all right?"

Instructions given, Harry was soon hidden beneath the cloak and Winky returned with the unbreakable jar. Hermione approached and addressed the beetle.

"Before we let you out of there, we need to get a few things in order. We are going to offer you a very nice story to tell that happens to be completely true. We want you to write it, and we want you to refrain from further lies about us in the future. That includes Harry Potter." She waited a moment, then pulled the lid from the jar.

The small beetle immediately fled, looking for some sort of window or seam by which she might make an escape. After a futile few moments, Rita Skeeter stood before them and began speaking angrily.

"I can't believe you captured me like that! I've been in that jar for days and let me tell you that I do not appreciate it one bit!"

Before she could continue her rant, Harry spoke from his hidden position. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Skeeter watched in astonishment as her wand flew from her and arced to land neatly in the hand of the now-revealed Harry Potter. She took a step back, suddenly fearful.

"How, how dare you! You know this is illegal, to attack someone like this! I won't stand for this!"

"Come now, _Rita_ , you must know that we mean you no real 'arm, otherwise my 'usband would not have used the Disarming Charm."

The reporter looked livid for a moment longer before she took on an expression of shrewish interest. "Husband, young lady, did you say husband?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Dobby!" Instantly the elf was at his side.

"Yes Harry Potter sir?"

"Dobby, would you and Winky please get this woman something to eat?"

"Of course, Dobby will get it done right away!" So saying, Dobby disappeared. Harry looked over at the reporter.

"Have a seat. We can talk after you get something to eat, and we can tell you why you got stuck in that jar for a few days longer than we planned."

Hermione sat down first and stared coolly at Skeeter. "Come on then. Like Fleur said, if we wanted you hurt, we wouldn't be talking."

HPHPHPHP

After Winky delivered dinner for the reporter and tea for the rest of them, Harry and Fleur had the distinct pleasure of watching Hermione harangue a helpless Rita Skeeter about her conduct. After the diatribe, the brown-haired witch proceeded to tell the tale of what had happened in the second task.

Skeeter held her tongue, but her expression ran the gamut from astonishment to calculation as the tale proceeded and Hermione calmly announced the events of the task, Hermione's awakening, the bonding, waking up in the infirmary, and finally the legal marriage and inheritance.

"So," the older witch began in reply, "I suppose you think you can keep me from publishing what I want somehow then?"

"Why yes, we do," Fleur replied. "It is quite illegal to be an unregistered animagus, yes?"

The reporter paled but quickly recovered. "Maybe in France young lady, but the penalties here-"

"Are just as awful, worse even if you consider that there is precedent for incarceration in Azkaban in Britain for this very offense," Hermione said with a harsh tone.

Skeeter's mouth drew into a line and she was silent.

" _The carrot then?_ " Hermione sent to them both.

" _I think she knows we're serious now_ ," Harry noted.

" _You are quite vicious, 'Ermione._ " Fleur sent with some humor.

Hermione grinned. "Now Miss Skeeter, we would like to offer you our story as well as interviews in the future if you like. We simply want to have you write the truth about us and not rumors."

"Is that all you want?" Rita questioned. Surely it could not be this easy.

"You will need to apologize for your earlier comments, of course, about the three of us and about Hagrid."

"The groundskeeper? Very well."

"This is important to me, Miss Skeeter," Harry said seriously. "I found out today that I have some resources I did not know about before. If you try to say anything untrue about Fleur or Hermione, or anyone I know of myself, expect to find yourself in trouble."

Looking at the young wizard, Skeeter found herself a little intimidated by the glare he was sending her way. If he did indeed have full control of the Potter wealth at fourteen, along with the influence of his new French father-in-law, as well as this damnably clever pair of witches at his side, Harry Potter was not someone she wanted to cross.

And anyway, what was there to choose? Fight something she was obviously guilty of, or throw in her lot with this young, wealthy, and influential magically bonded trio?

"I accept your terms, Mr., Mrs., and Mrs. Potter."

Hermione leaned back in her chair and sipped at her tea, eyeing the reporter warily.

"I will do as you ask. Surely you must know this is a good deal for me; why else make it?"

"Zere is more to come," Fleur hinted with a smile. "Once we 'av spoken with our friends at Gringotts, we may have a story about 'Arry's second year 'ere."

" _After_ we have confirmed this with the headmaster. Can you wait here with Winky, Rita? We will need to have another meeting, and then we can have you speak with him as well."

_Dumbledore in on this too?_ Skeeter wondered. She had definitely made the right decision here then.

"Of course. I'll be waiting."

A moment later, Dobby popped in.

"Harry Potter sir, the headmaster says that the Grangeys is here and waiting for you." He looked a bit worried. Harry did too.

"All right, Dobby. Please have Winky keep an eye on Skeeter while we're gone, ok?"

With that, Dobby apparated them one by one out of the Room of Requirement, leaving a very thoughtful Rita Skeeter at the table.

HPHPHPHP

" _As well as that went, you need not be so paranoid about this, Harry_ ," Hermione sent reassuringly to her new husband.

"' _Ermione, eet eez less than reassuring when you seem so pale yourself_."

" _I'll try to do my best, both of you. We've faced down everything else today. I just don't want them angry with Hermione._ "

" _I love you both, you know. Whatever happens, we're still going to be together._ " Hermione was a bit more successful at sounding confident this time.

"Let's go then," Harry said. They entered Dumbledore's office.

Daniel Granger was sitting with a careful frown on his face. Next to him, his wife Emma was also unsmiling, although she did offer a polite nod as the trio entered the room.

It had been a busy week of work for the both of them, and neither knew what to expect when they read the vague letter delivered by owl that informed them that their presence was required at Hogwarts concerning a change of their daughter's legal status in the magical world.

Neither knew what that meant, and upon the arrival of the headmaster their concerns were not in any way assuaged. He had assured them that it was nothing negative, but also said that it was not his story to tell.

Dan Granger was a serious man. Privately, he considered himself to be quite deficient in seriousness and consequently was all the more so in his bearing. His wife Emma was usually the force which led to him display levity, whenever their daughter was absent at least. His pride in Hermione made this meeting all the more worrisome.

Emma, though not as outwardly grave as her husband, was quite concerned about this summons. Hermione had never given them any cause to regret sending her to Hogwarts; she hoped that nothing was wrong. She was intelligent enough to suppose that non-magical persons like she and her husband were almost never invited to the magical school.

Hermione smiled nervously. "Hello mum, dad."

Her mother stood and hugged her. "Hello dear, is everything quite all right? Your headmaster's summons has us both a little worried." Emma frowned as she felt her daughter tense up. Hermione had always been awful at keeping things from her parents.

"Well, I'm fine. It's just that some things have happened, and, well..." Hermione's ramble trailed off as her mother looked her in the eye.

"Hermione," Dan commented, "If you have done nothing wrong then you have nothing to worry about."

" _If only,_ " Hermione sent to Harry and Fleur.

"Mother, this is Harry Potter," she gestured to the black-haired boy, who nodded nervously.

"The young man in your letters, hmm?" She looked at him appraisingly. "I'm Emma Granger, and this is my husband, Daniel."

"Pleasure to meet you both," Harry said in a rush. He was not feeling at all calm.

"And who is this lovely young woman?" Emma asked. She was a bit interested in how close the older girl seemed to be to Harry Potter; reading between the lines of Hermione's letters, Emma had always thought that this Potter lad might become a boyfriend one day. Seeing the gorgeous young lady standing at his side, she felt a bit of worry for her daughter on that count.

Fleur offered her hand in greeting. "Fleur... Delacour, Mrs. Granger. Eet eez a pleasure to meet you."

Emma shook the young woman's hand. "Might I ask, headmaster, what these two have to do with my daughter's 'change in legal status?'"

Feeling Hermione's intense worry at her mother's gaze and her father's scrutiny, Harry elected to bite the bullet.  It was his name they were wearing after all.

"I think I can answer that, Mrs. Granger," the young wizard began. " _I can do this,_ " he sent to the girls, " _They're sure to blame me anyway,_ " he concluded.

" _We will speak when we need to as well, 'Arry,_ " Fleur assented.

Hermione merely sent a feeling of encouragement over her nervousness.

"Might we all sit down?" Harry asked.

Once they were seated, he looked over and met first Emma's, and then Dan's measured stares. Harry swallowed.

"I am sure that Hermione has written to you about the Triwizard Tournament at school this year, hasn't she?"

Dan nodded. "She has, and mentioned that you were entered against your will."

Harry continued. "That's true sir. Fleur here is the representative for one of the other schools, Beauxbatons." He took a breath. "During the second task of the tournament, this Wednesday, we had to rescue hostages from the black lake. The hostages were magically protected, but we as contestants did not know that. Fleur had to rescue her younger sister; I had to rescue Hermione." Dan's frown was anything but encouraging, but Harry pressed on. "During the rescue, when Fleur and I both touched Hermione at the same time, the charm that was keeping her safe broke. She was fine," he hastened to reassure them, "once we got out of the lake, but then we all passed out."

Fleur took Hermione's hand as Harry paused to gather his courage.

"Your daughter, myself, and Fleur formed a magical, unbreakable bond that caused us to collapse until it was finished finalizing. We are all, well," Harry searched for words, "I don't know how else to say it: the three of us are married."

Complete silence greeted this announcement. Harry mastered his fear and kept his expression calm, if only to reassure Hermione, who he felt through the bond was now extremely anxious.

"Are you quite serious?" Dan Granger asked, anger barely held in check as he leaned forward and clenched his hands against one another.  “Hermione, my daughter, is married, to two people, at fifteen?" His voice got a little louder before he mastered himself. "And you expect me to take this seriously?"

Emma put her hand on his arm. "Hermione, Harry, Fleur, is this true?" Her voice was carefully controlled.

"Yes it is, Mrs. Granger," Harry answered.

"We are married, it is true," Fleur agreed.

"Yes mum, it's true," she sounded very small and nervous.

Dan Granger stood up and turned to face the wall, folding his arms over his chest. Still sitting, Emma Granger sighed.

"I suppose you expect that I will just let my daughter run off to be in a polyamorous marriage at fifteen with no protest?" He said without turning around. "Married already? What of her education? Her housing? Do either of you, Mr. Potter or Ms. Delacour, have any means of taking care of her? How can I trust either of you? You're children yourselves!"

He cut himself off there, breathing heavily, still unable to face them. Hermione was crying.

"Your father is right to ask, Hermione." Although she did not sound as angry as her husband, Emma Granger was obviously upset. "We trust you a great deal, but you are not old enough to decide to marry."

Her daughter's only reply was to begin audibly sobbing. Harry turned to comfort her before replying.

"Mrs. Granger, I love Hermione and Fleur." He tried to look at her with as much conviction as he could muster, ignoring the contemptuous snort from her husband.  

"And I love Harry and Hermione as well," Fleur said as she tried to comfort the younger girl. "This was something we felt before ze bond became final, something that grew over the last few months. The soul bond is final and unbreakable."

Dan spun around. "But that's ridiculous damn it! There's some magic to make you all love each other? If there is then it's wrong!"

Emma looked like she was about to agree before Hermione broke in.

"That is _not_ it! The bond doesn't make love; love makes the bond. Ask Professor Dumbledore if you don't believe any of us," she said a little bitterly.

"The young witch is quite correct; a soul bond is a very rare thing indeed, and among three is nearly unknown. These are powerful bonds that only form when the people involved love one another, and even then something more is required. We do not fully understand them, but there is something we do know," here the wizened headmaster looked over his glasses gravely. "To break such a bond is to insure the misery of those involved."

"So that's it then?" Dan asked, obviously upset. "Nothing we can do? Nothing we can say? No choice in the matter?"

"Dad, you can choose to respect my decision." Hermione's words were stronger with Harry and Fleur supporting her. "Mum," she looked at Emma, who seemed uncertain, "I am still the same girl who left home for school. Just growing up a bit." She made the ghost of a smile.

"You want this, then? Even though you're only fifteen?" Emma asked gravely.

"Yes mum," Hermione said, squeezing Harry and Fleur's hands in her own. "I do, and so do they."

"And what do their parents think about this?" Dan challenged.

"My parents are 'appy for us all," Fleur answered proudly.

"And you, young man?" Dan questioned Harry.

"My parents died when I was very young. This is no one's decision but my own, but I like to think that they would approve of Hermione and Fleur." The young wizard stared at his new father-in-law with conviction.

Dan sighed heavily and sat down next to his wife.

"You don't think there will be any... complications from the three of you being married?" Emma asked.

"We're all legal adults now, and I found out that I inherited some money from my parents, so we will be fine that way. Other than that we will be in school like we were before, just in our... own quarters." Harry tried to ignore Dan's frown.

"This is something between all three of us," Hermione added with a blush. "We would not have bonded otherwise."

There was silence again before Fleur spoke.

"Perhaps you would like to speak with my parents as well?" Dan looked a little better, and Emma seemed interested. "Zey are with my sister Gabrielle right now, but perhaps we could visit?" She looked over at Dumbledore.

"An excellent idea, Mrs. Potter." Dan flinched. "Would you like to lead them there now?"

" _Fleur, Hermione, you go along so you can talk without me around. I'm going to get Skeeter and talk with Dumbledore about the basilisk._ "

" _Are you sure Harry?_ " Hermione asked worriedly. This had been just as trying for him as it had been for her.

" _Sure, I can still talk with you both if I need help. Don't worry._ "

"Headmaster, I need to speak with you about something as well."

"Very well Harry," the wizard looked at him thoughtfully, "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, we will provide you with accommodations at the castle this evening if you like, so you can speak with your daughter at your leisure. Would that be all right?"

They agreed, and once Dumbledore advised Hermione where to find Fleur's parents they all left the office, leaving Harry and the headmaster behind.

It was the first time since waking up in the hospital wing that Harry was alone. Of course, alone had a different meaning for him now; he could feel Fleur's comforting confidence as she tried to buoy the still-apprehensive Hermione, and Hermione's own concern for him as he faced down Dumbledore. Harry sent them both reassurance that he was all right.

"Harry, I cannot make any excuses for what I have done," Dumbledore said as he looked at the young wizard. "We all must take responsibility for our actions... and lack of actions, and I am old enough to know that pain does not always fade with time. I am truly sorry for the violence that has been done to you."

"But you would not change your mind, knowing what happened?" Harry asked, his voice a little hostile.

"I am also old enough to know where regrets lead you." Dumbledore sounded stern, but then he looked down at his desk and continued in a tired voice, "Harry, none of us makes a decision that we know to be wrong at the time. I will do what I can to accommodate you with regard to Hogwarts and the two young ladies in your care."

Harry rubbed at his scar. "Thank you, professor." It was hard to thank Dumbledore, harder to trust him at all, now that Harry was beginning to learn what trust really was from Fleur and Hermione.

Still, Dumbledore was a powerful ally, or as Hermione had said, at least a bad person to alienate. He would be as calm as he could, here.

"There is something we need to talk about. The basilisk."

"Of course. I take it you intend to call in the goblins and have it sold, perhaps after some nicely positive newspaper coverage of yourself and Mrs. Potter?"

Harry had to hand it to him, the old man was certainly no fool.

"That's right. I want to have some sense of what it will be worth when I talk with Griphook tomorrow, and I want to get them down here this weekend if possible. I have a line on Rita Skeeter to help us."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "Skeeter? And you think you can get her to print something favorable?"

The younger man grinned. "Thanks to Hermione and Fleur, yes. We have some leverage over her."

"Very well Harry. If the basilisk is as large as you reported to me at the time, then it may be worth a considerable fortune. Perhaps thirty-five thousand galleons in round terms?"

" _Harry, what is it?_ " He felt Hermione send.

" _Dumbledore says the basilisk could fetch thirty-five thousand galleons. What should we do with it?_ "

" _Something that would make you look good, Harry._ "

“ _What about a donation, 'Arry? You can give part to the school and divide ze rest among ze victims you say were attacked._ "

" _And Ron, Harry._ "

" _Ron?_ "

" _That is a good idea. 'e seems like an insecure boy from what you both 'ave said; a reward for 'elping you and 'is sister would be very good._ "

" _All right then._ "

"Sir, I think I would like to divide the takings into equal parts for Ron, Ginny, the other victims, and Hogwarts." Harry said confidently.

The old wizard did not reply, but merely looked at him intently before smiling. "So you can all three speak telepathically then?"

Harry froze.

Dumbledore waved a hand in reassurance before replying. "You needn't worry my boy. I suspected, as I said in the Hospital Wing, that it was possible. Is it full verbal communication?" Harry nodded. "Remarkable," Dumbledore said. "The 'power he knows not,' perhaps?"

"Could it be that, sir?" Harry asked hopefully. Could it be this that would help him one day against Voldemort? Fleur and Hermione felt his excitement and he quickly explained the possibility.

"It may be. Only time will tell, but surely there will be no loving soul bond for Tom Riddle."

Harry took a breath. "I suppose. Sir, I would like to get Rita Skeeter here to confirm a few things, and send an owl to Griphook about the basilisk. Is that all right?"

The headmaster nodded. "I will wait for you here, Harry. Perhaps this busy evening will draw to a close soon."

Harry had to hope he was right as he headed off to the Room of Requirement.

HPHPHPHP

Ginny walked toward the library to meet up with her friend Luna Lovegood, accompanied by Neville Longbottom as well as her recalcitrant but unwilling-to-fail-his-classes older brother Ron. She was feeling rather uneasy.

Neither Harry, Hermione, nor Fleur Delacour had appeared at the great hall for dinner. It was already two full days since the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, and the three of them had not woken up. Ginny, along with Neville, Ron, and Luna, had already tried to visit several times, only to see that the three students were in some sort of magically induced coma state.

Neville particularly had had a hard time coming back to visit with them. He mentioned to Ginny that he really did not like hospitals.

Everyone had seen the three of them resurface with the young blonde witch in tow, and everyone had watched them look at each other in obvious relief before collapsing. Ginny had seen the young girl in the company of what looked to be Fleur's parents entering the hospital wing Thursday. None of them had seemed very open to conversation, so she had refrained from asking anything.

Ginny knew that something had happened under the lake. In fact, she had been watching Harry even more closely than usual after the Yule Ball, and he seemed to be very happy in the company of the beautiful French girl and Hermione Granger. It still made her heart ache a little, but she had been very glad to see him happy. Harry Potter had nearly died saving her life two years past; she had seen the scar that the basilisk had left on him.

She had also heard from her brothers about his home, or rather the house in which he was kept. Ginny suspected that his life before Hogwarts was even worse than they all thought; that he would so willingly risk his life for another spoke clearly about the sort of person he was despite his upbringing.

The other girls saw it too, to a greater or lesser degree. Obviously Hermione Granger and Fleur Delacour saw it more clearly than the rest. They were inseparable from Harry. Rumors flew of course, but Ginny liked to think that one day Harry would be able to tell her, and everyone else, the truth of what was going on.

If he ever woke up, that is.

She was drawn out of her silent musings by the voice of her brother.

"So what do you think McGonagall was doing?"

Their head of house earlier had entered the common room and ignored everyone in favor of speaking with one of the portraits, which subsequently opened to reveal a room none of them, even the older students, had known existed. The twins were already fantastically curious.

"She didn't seem too keen on explaining it to us," Neville answered thoughtfully.

"She looked pretty serious, too," Ginny observed.

"McGonagall's _always_ serious, Ginny," noted Ron sarcastically.

"But this was different," Neville said. "She didn't look gloomy like she has been since the lake..." His voice trailed off.

"Maybe," Ron replied. "Maybe she got some good news about Harry and Hermione? And, er, Fleur Delacour?"

"I hope so," Ginny said as they reached the library.

As Neville opened the door, Luna Lovegood stepped out, as though she had just happened to be there at the precise moment he had removed the obstacle for her. Either that, or she had been standing there waiting.

Ginny was not sure which was more likely.

"Hello Ginevra, Ronald, Neville," she said politely. "I just remembered that I need to get a textbook from Professor Babbling's classroom; I left it there all this week to attract Wisp-Whisps and I need to see whether it worked out. Would you all fancy a walk?"

Ginny sighed and agreed. Neville stammered out "Of course, I'd love to!"

Ron just shrugged and went along. It had to be better than reviewing the potions notes he had halfway taken earlier that afternoon.

As Luna led them upward toward the sixth floor, Neville engaged her in conversation, albeit somewhat haltingly.

"Are you enjoying Ancient Runes then?"

"Oh yes," she replied airily. "I'm looking forward to Harry being back in class on Monday."

"Well, I hope he will be too," Neville said softly.

"Me too, Neville," Ginny echoed.

"He'll be up and around soon, I know it. Harry's pretty tough you know," Ron tried to sound positive. He, too, was quite worried.

As the entered the sixth floor corridor Neville was getting ready to broach a new topic of conversation when suddenly he caught sight of a lone figure walking their way.

Neville stopped immediately. Beside him, Luna looked ahead with a small smile. Ginny and Ron ran forward with excitement on their faces. "Harry!" they both cried.

Harry Potter froze where he was standing.

HPHPHPHP

Dan Granger sat, frustrated, in the nicely-appointed sitting area of the room they had been given for the evening. The Delacours had been nothing but accommodating and pleasant in conversation, and had drawn Emma in with their more complete explanation of what the soul bonding actually meant.

Emma was not against him, but she certainly seemed to be firmly in the magical camp on this one. Looking at his daughter and the young French witch he was having difficulty thinking of as his little girl's wife, he could see they were happy.

Everyone seemed to be happy apart from him, in fact. It was maddening.

"Dan, can you please say something? You've been brooding for a while now."

He sighed at his wife's words. Emma knew him too well to let him stew like this; it was part of the trade-off from being close to someone: they knew exactly what to expect of you. In this case, he expected Emma to pull him out of his anger. The act of calming him would help to calm her.

It was how their relationship had always worked, from the very first day he had noticed her presence when she demolished a lab report he had written in a peer critical review. He loved her, but damned if it wasn't galling to have someone know you so well.

He knew that he had to say something. Hermione looked nervous even as the other girl, Fleur, held her hand.

Dan sighed. This was not at all what he had expected. Even with a witch for a daughter.

"I just feel like we don't have a choice here," he said awkwardly. "Don't misunderstand," he looked at his daughter, "I believe you feel what you feel, and I believe this soul bond is as real as you describe." He paused for a moment, trying to phrase his concerns in a way that would be least upsetting for his daughter. "No one likes to feel constrained. Your mother and I were taken here magically, informed of what had occurred after the fact, and given nothing but the choice to approve or have you hate us."

He closed his eyes as he saw his only daughter's eyes tear up. Emma made no move to silence him.

"Of course we trust you, of course we would never want you unhappy. I even know enough to say that if this were just a boyfriend that I would have about this much choice in the matter. But this is permanent, for the rest of your whole life, and we never even got to meet the young man or the young woman first." Dan rubbed at his forehead. "Of course I feel a bit railroaded. But you are my daughter, and I love you, and if you say you love them both then I'm not going to disagree. I just worry about your future."

Hermione stood at this and sent a brief pulse of reassurance to Fleur as she walked over to her father and hugged him.

"Thank you dad, I know it's complicated and you know I never want to make you unhappy, but I promise you we're all going to be all right." She looked up to see her father smiling gently, and noticed her mother was pleased as well. She spoke more rapidly. "You know that Fleur's extremely talented and quite strong on her own; she faced down a dragon a few months ago without flinching! And Harry is very brave and very loyal; I know you'll like them a great deal once you have a chance to visit with them more. And as for practicalities, you know we're to have private quarters here; for the summer Harry has just found out he has eight houses, so we've no worries there. And he inherited quite a bit, he found out today; none of us knew! I believe Griphook said something on the order of six hundred thousand galleons in round terms—"

"'Ermione! Please, a moment!" Fleur said with a laugh. "Your parents surely need time before you bombard them with zis." Hermione blushed and backed away from her father, moving to sit next to Fleur.

Dan and Emma were meanwhile rather comforted by their daughter's familiar rambling tone, something she had exhibited even as a very small and enthusiastic child.

Then Emma froze.

"Did you say... six hundred thousand?"

"Yes mother, I believe that was the total," she looked at Fleur who was fighting to hold back a laugh. "What?"

Dan stood up. "Do you mean to tell me the boy has eight houses and six hundred thousand pounds?" He said, astonished.

"Oh no Mr. Granger," Fleur corrected with a smile, "It was six hundred thousand galleons, or about one hundred fifty million of your pounds I believe."

Daniel Granger sat back down heavily.

"Are you quite sure, Fleur?" Emma asked shakily.

"Yes, we heard it as well," Charles Delacour answered for her. "Quite remarkable; young Mr. Potter did not even know it existed."

The Grangers were stunned into silence by that.

"Really I am surprised you didn't ask about Fleur and the dragon first!" Hermione said, miffed. "She and Harry faced one _each_! Really more amazing than a lot of money."

Fleur felt the honest indignation from Hermione and smiled. " _Do not worry, 'Ermione. At least zey are more accepting now._ "

" _I think I'll tell them a bit about the dragons, and maybe the basilisk too. They'll be hearing about it tomorrow anyway._ "

Hermione proceeded to do so, adding to the astonishment of her parents. Fleur was quick to note Hermione's own role in the adventures.

Things were going as well as they could have hoped. Both Hermione and Fleur were glad to note that Harry's meeting with Skeeter and Dumbledore was proceeding well; with any luck they could get through this weekend of revelations intact and sane.

HPHPHPHP

Harry was pleased that his meeting about the basilisk had gone well. Skeeter was even more amenable to their plans once he showed her Griphook's return letter about the basilisk; they were all to descend into the Chamber of Secrets the next day and she would have the exclusive story.

Dumbledore had backed Harry up all the way, which he appreciated. Although his trust in the headmaster was at a low ebb, he did not believe that Albus Dumbledore wished him direct harm. For now, he could be a very powerful ally.

He was also happy to know that Hermione's parents were accepting the situation; it was a bit embarrassing overhearing the girls talk about him, but it was well worth it if Dan Granger didn't try to kill him.

It was in this more-or-less positive frame of mind that he was headed toward the quarters of the Grangers and Delacours from the headmaster's office. He was a little distracted and focused on feeling Fleur and Hermione, so he did not notice the four students approach until he was practically right on top of them.

Ron and Ginny were hugging him excitedly. "Harry! You're awake!" "Glad you're all right mate!"

"Ah, yeah, just woke up this afternoon..." He tried to sound positive. Harry had not been expecting this meeting so suddenly. They were planning to announce the whole business along with the basilisk retrieval in the morning before the school.

He would just have to play this by ear. " _Looks like I just ran into Neville, Ginny, Ron, and Luna. I think I have to tell them some of what has been going on,_ " he advised his wives over the bond.

" _It's all right Harry, you can bring them here too if you like_ ," Hermione noted.

" _Zey would have known soon enough, 'Arry,_ " Fleur assented. " _Don't worry. We love you_."

Harry took a deep breath, now reassured, and opened his mouth to speak.

"You're not alone, are you Harry?"

The question from Luna threw him off track entirely. The younger girl was staring at him intently.

"Well, um..."

"You ok Harry?" Neville asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I am." He tried to reassure them all. "But I have something big to tell you. Can you follow me? I was on my way to see Fleur and Hermione."

Ginny looked very serious. "Harry, what's going on?"

The green-eyed wizard glanced around and lowered his voice. "Not here. Please, just follow me and I'll tell you some as we go, ok?"

They agreed and Harry started walking. As they followed, he told them what had occurred under the lake during the task, how Hermione had been in deadly danger and then they had all collapsed, only to wake in the infirmary this afternoon.

By the time he finished that part of the tale, they were at the guest quarters. Professor McGonagall and Madame Maxime were coming up the hallway at the same time.

"Mr. Potter, you're bringing your friends in for a discussion about this now?" The grave witch asked pointedly.

"Yes Professor. Everyone else will know tomorrow anyway; I don't mind telling them now."

At this all of them tensed, apart from Luna, who simply seemed unconcerned.

"Very well Mr. Potter."

They all entered the sitting area; the four excitedly greeted Hermione and Fleur and were introduced to their parents. A moment later, as McGonagall created a few new chairs for everyone, Harry pulled himself together and walked over to Hermione to give her a brief kiss on the lips.

He tried to ignore it as everyone went silent. Then he kissed Fleur as well.

Not meeting anyone's eyes, Harry pulled one of the chairs over to sit beside his two wives.

" _Nice work, show-stopper,_ " Hermione wryly.

" _Better they know how things are now,_ " Harry sent back. " _I refuse to be scared of this._ "

Fleur smiled and leaned over to offer Harry a small kiss on the cheek. "A bold one, oui, 'Ermione?"

Before she could reply, Ginny, who had already elbowed her brother hard in the side, spoke. "So, do you think you might tell us what's going on then?" Her voice was level, but still betrayed a bit of her nervousness.

It was difficult to watch one's childhood dreams end in one's face, after all.

" _I'll do it_ ," Harry sent to the girls. He cleared his throat, heartened by Fleur taking his hand. "We, that is, Hermione, Fleur, and myself, are soul-bonded." Silence reigned. "We're also now married."

Ron and Neville wore identical expressions of open-mouthed amazement. Ginny blushed and looked at her feet. Luna was smiling happily.

Madame Maxime and Professor McGonagall were watching the four students with great interest; this was what the whole student body would be hearing tomorrow morning after all.

The Delacours and the Grangers also watched with great interest. These were friends of their children, so they hoped for a supportive reaction.

Dan Granger felt a bit pleased at watching someone else deal with this shock today.

"That's wonderful, you three. You all look very happy; I confess that I'm a bit jealous. Will you all be living together in Gryffindor tower now?" Luna cocked her head to the side and raised a single finger to her mouth in concentration. "I do hope you'll all be here at Hogwarts. You're quite interesting."

Ron finally found his voice next. "Bloody hell Harry! You're married!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ron, they are." She turned to the trio, who still looked a little worried. "I can hardly believe it, but a soul bond between three people is amazing! It's like a fairy tale—" She stopped abruptly and thought for a second. "Wait, was Professor McGonagall setting up a room for you in the tower earlier?"

The older witch nodded in confirmation. "Yes Ms. Weasley. They will be staying there this evening and announcing this change of status tomorrow to the school at breakfast."

"Harry, I don't know what to say! Hermione, congratulations! Fleur, er, Ms. Delacour, umm..." Neville's voice trailed off nervously. "Congratulations to all of you."

Fleur smiled warmly at this. "Thank you, Neville, I hope I can call you zat?" The boy nodded at her. "'Arry and 'Ermione 'ave been very worried about what you all would think."

"Worried?" Ron asked, amazed. "Hermione, Harry, this is crazy! I hope you can get a good story about this in the _Prophet_ so maybe people can leave you alone. I mean, I know I've been a bit annoying this year too, but a soul bond! Wow!" The boy shook his head in amazement. "Even mum should stop whining about you now!" He looked up after he had spoken, a bit embarrassed. "I mean, well, sorry about what she sent you and all."

"It's fine, Ron," Hermione answered with relief evident in her tone. "You four have been really good to all three of us since Skeeter's article came out," she added, tactfully deciding not to mention Ron's arguments with Harry earlier in the year. "We're all a little nervous about this, but we're all legal adults now and we'll be living together. I don't want to stop being friends or anything just because of our, um," she halted.

" _Ménage à trois?_ " Fleur sent at her with a winning smile.

Harry’s eyes widened perceptibly, and Hermione looked at Fleur, mortified. "Oh don't tease!" She inadvertently said out loud.

Everyone in the room looked at them with unnerving curiosity. Luna looked thrilled, while McGonagall, Maxime, and the Delacours looked awed.

"What, what was that?" Ginny asked the question everyone wanted answered.

Harry sighed. "Well, that didn't last long," he noted, looking at Fleur with a mock-frown. The beautiful witch tossed her magnificent head of hair.

"Hmph! I did it on purpose of course. 'ow else are zey to know?" She leaned over to look closely at the nervous Hermione. "And zey do need to know."

Hermione frowned, then shook her head and smiled over at Fleur. " _I understand. Thank you._ "

" _It was not only a tease, you know,_ " Fleur sent back.

Harry and Hermione both flushed crimson for a moment.

It was McGonagall who found her voice next. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, some soul bonds result in a special awareness of the other person. Or persons, rather. In this case-"

"They can speak telepathically, and feel emotions." Luna interrupted calmly. "Isn't that right?"

McGonagall nodded.

"You can read their minds, Harry?" Ron was dumbfounded. "That means Hermione can lecture you from anywhere!"

Harry broke down laughing at this; Hermione and Fleur followed suit a moment later and were joined by the rest of the group as well.

"Ron," Hermione said after she recovered, "Really! I do not lecture!"

The group watched in intense amusement as she stiffened and turned to look at Harry, who had a guilty expression on his face.

"Well, you _do_ lecture sometimes..." He said to the amusement of those present. " _But it is cute to see you all worked up like that._ " He flashed a smile at her and Hermione tried not to smile too openly.

Fleur laughed. "You zee Ronald, it is difficult to lie, but we usually 'ave to try to speak to each other."

"It's conversation, and some emotion," Harry said, feeling a little odd talking about it. "I can't just see whatever it is Hermione or Fleur is thinking."

"Thank heaven for that," Emma Granger noted.

They all chuckled.

" _Demystifying it makes us seem not so far away or unusual, 'Arry,_ " Fleur advised him.

" _I understand. Thanks for making us talk about it,_ " he replied.

" _It's strange how normal this feels now,_ " Hermione noted. " _I think it was building up to this really, since the ball._ "

"Now that I know what to look for..." Neville said thoughtfully.

"You can almost see them talking," Ginny added.

"We'd rather keep that a secret, or at least something people aren't sure about," Hermione noted.

"Tomorrow morning we'll be telling everyone about the whole marriage thing... and something else too." Harry said. He looked at Ginny. "Ginny, I'm sorry for not asking you before, but I'm going into the Chamber of Secrets," he saw her become pale, "And I'm going to be interviewed. After that the goblins are going to sell the basilisk; I've been told that it could be a lot of money." He paused and looked quickly at Ron, then back to Ginny. "Like a few thousand galleons."

Gasps of astonishment came from the four friends.

"That, that's good mate," Ron answered softly. "I know you saved Ginny's life and probably more people than that. You deserve it." The red-headed boy bit his lip.

"Ron," Hermione said gently, "Harry's splitting the money. Equal shares to every victim, plus a share for Hogwarts and one for you."

They all watched as both Ron and Ginny looked at each other, amazed. "But Harry," Ginny said, "I don't know if we can take that... you saved my life!"

Her brother nodded a bit sadly. "True, mate."

"No it isn't!" Harry said insistently, his eyes flashing. "Your family made me feel welcome, even rescued me from the Dursleys! And I wouldn't want money for rescuing Ginny anyway. If you hadn't been there, that fraud Lockhart might have got me!"

He stood up and looked at them fiercely. "I am _not_ asking. That money, whatever it ends up being, is going to you two along with the others. It's yours." He let out a deep breath and turned to sit back down.

"Thank you, Harry," Ginny said, tearing up. "I'll go down there tomorrow if you'll let me, all right?"

Harry nodded. "I'll be there with you. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Thanks Harry," Ron said, still a bit overwhelmed. "You know I didn't mean to sound, well, ungrateful. It's just..."

"Ron, don't mention it. Really." Harry looked at his friend evenly. "It's not worth fighting about."

The boy grinned sheepishly. "Thanks."

"' _e still 'as some growing up to do, but ze boy eez not all bad,_ " Fleur sent.

" _He's all right, when he's not being jealous. With any luck he's getting over all that_ ," Hermione commented.

" _I'm just glad none of them are upset. The Weasleys could use a little help_."

"As happy as I am to hear this, Mr. Potter, it is nevertheless growing late. I can escort you back to your quarters, along with these three. I will take Miss Lovegood to Ravenclaw tower afterward."

McGonagall's words went unchallenged; it had been a very long day and none of the trio were about to voice the fact that Madam Pomfrey had wanted them back under her care that evening.

Fleur and Hermione both said good night to their parents. Dan Granger glared at Harry, but made no comments. He trusted his daughter, and after all he had already given his approval.

They arrived at the Gryffindor common room to find it sparsely populated; eyebrows were raised but no one spoke to them before McGonagall opened the portrait of the two wizards playing some strange board game and led them inside. The trio entered and said good night to their friends. Once they were gone and they had set their private password per McGonagall's instructions, the trio were left alone.

HPHPHPHP

"It's go, Harry," Hermione commented absently as she located the doorway to the bedroom. She had been trying to keep a cool head ever since parting from her parents.

"What?"

"The board game the wizards are playing on the portrait. Go. It's... Chinese, I believe, but Koreans and Japanese play it as well. Strategy game. Like chess..." Hermione noted with some concern that there was only one bed.

She was unable to restrain the spike of emotion that she felt, and Fleur came up behind her dragging a blushing Harry.

"We need to talk about zis, I think," the older witch said.

Hermione stood stock-still and did not turn around.

"It's nothing," she said nervously. "Why don't you two unpack your things?"

"Dobby and Winky already did that, looks like," Harry commented. He frowned.

"Darling, please tell me what eez wrong," Fleur released Harry's hand and touched Hermione's shoulder. At her touch, Hermione spun around and looked shaken.

"I, I don't want to, all right?"

" _Hermione?_ " Harry sent inquiringly.

The girl stared at him apprehensively and then shook her head. "I think I need to take a bath." So saying, she practically ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Fleur and Harry shuddered a little.

Harry looked worriedly at Fleur. " _Can you hear her?_ "

" _Non, not well. She eez afraid, and I think she eez shutting us out._ "

"Well," Harry said a little uncomfortably, "I'm a bit afraid myself." He looked to the bed and then away, a nervous expression on his face.

"'Arry," Fleur walked over to him and gently turned his face toward her own, "We need do nothing but be together, sleeping, for now.”

Her eyes widened a moment as she caught flashes of Harry's unintentionally strong emotions. She shivered a bit, even as the young wizard himself looked away.

"I'm sorry, Fleur, I-"

" _Do not be sorry, love._ " Fleur took a breath and held Harry's hand, then guided him to sit on the bed. She sat beside him and tried to calm herself before sending, " _Show me._ "

Harry squeezed her hand. " _Fleur, it's, well..._ " Even sending, he fumbled his attempt to express himself.

The veela girl tried not to sigh. Hermione shutting them both out was not entirely unexpected; Fleur knew that her newly-minted wife and husband had no more experience than she did in relationships. The physical side of things was always going to be challenging. Fleur had had enough time with Hermione to know by now that the younger witch had an extremely active imagination and a case of fearful shyness to match.

The blonde girl knew that Hermione had been dwelling on this all day, and in fact had already been doing so during the weeks since the Yule Ball. Harry was not very physically demonstrative and tended to be very skittish; Hermione in turn was boiling over with feelings she was afraid to act on. They both tended to leave it in Fleur's hands to initiate kisses or other gestures of affection. Because she was older she had tried to take it in stride. It wasn't as though she _disliked_ being the active party in that regard, but it was not a role she would have chosen for herself.

Harry had shown on more than one occasion that he could shatter his fear and take action; that was a big part of the Harry Potter with whom Fleur had fallen in love. She knew that he needed reassurance that he was not being pushy; Harry was nothing if not respectful of any space the girls wanted.

But it was not space that Fleur wanted, and she well knew that the same was true of Hermione. How was she to convince the younger girl that her fears were groundless? Even telepathy wasn't helping since Hermione was hiding from them both, and if she were to follow her into the bath that would still leave Harry behind.

In fact, Fleur reflected that it might be even worse. The last thing she wanted was to be in some sort of feminine cabal with Hermione while leaving Harry on the outside, an observer to the girls determining the answers to their issues alone. If every difficulty were to be resolved like that, it would not be the relationship that Fleur wanted. She was confident that Harry and Hermione wanted something more inclusive than that as well.

This was about Hermione's nervousness at what they would think about her, at her enthusiasm and interest in sex. It was also about Harry's fears of physical rejection, his yearning for emotional reciprocity. Suddenly, Fleur knew what needed to be done.

Harry meanwhile was feeling distinctly awkward. It had been bad enough to have to try to conceal his arousal and immediate fantasy for the evening as they had entered the apartments together; worse still to feel Hermione's spiking emotions and subsequent uncomfortable disconnect; and finally now to sense the whirlwind of emotion coming from Fleur while he held her hand.

It was becoming altogether too much for Harry, and he was beginning to question how sustainable this tide of emotions would be for the three of them when Fleur leaned forward and kissed him.

Thoughts of Hermione did not leave his mind, but they were somewhat overwhelmed by the dizzying enthusiasm of the blonde girl's kiss. He eagerly returned it and was anticipating Fleur leaning back onto the bed so they could continue, when he managed to check himself, draw back, and catch his breath.

"Fleur, what about Hermione?" It took a great deal of self-control to ask, but the kiss had made it easier for him to broach the topic.

The veela cocked her head to the side and pouted. Harry very nearly leaned forward again to kiss her.

"What about 'er, love?" Her tone was inquisitive rather than biting.

"Well, I'd rather..." The young wizard looked at her and steeled himself. "I want her here too. She's afraid."

Fleur folded her arms over her chest. "Zen why don't you go and get 'er?"

"Well she's in the bath!" He said defensively.

Fleur stared at her husband with amusement in her eyes. "Terrifying," she commented.

Green eyes met blue for a long moment. Fleur could feel his initial hesitation, and then the burst of resolve followed by amused anticipation.

" _I'll be right back._ "

HPHPHPHP

It was very, very quiet where Hermione Potter was sitting. She was on the floor in the quite nicely appointed bathroom of their marital quarters. The silence on which she was dwelling, though, was in her own mind.

Shutting out her sending had been an alarming sensation; it made her very nervous and a little cold. She wondered whether the other two were feeling something similar.

Hermione knew, of course, that Fleur knew what she was thinking about; no magical bond would be required for that. Harry was a bit oblivious but even he had to have felt her hormonal emotions roiling over the course of the afternoon. Fleur would know because she had confided in the older girl.

If only her father and mother had not been there, Hermione lamented. That had added even more nervous shame to the day as she tried to concentrate on important matters and not bedroom fantasies. The brown-haired girl was bookish, yes, but she was not ascetic by choice. Her romance with Harry and Fleur was extremely exciting, but that excitement was worrying. How would they feel about it, about her?

It felt as though she were just being an adolescent, just a foolish girl, and that was not something Hermione wanted to think of herself. It was definitely not something she wanted Fleur and Harry to think of her.

Seeing the bed and realizing the immediacy of _sleeping_ with the two of them had been too much. It was just too embarrassing to let them find out. Now that she had run off though, she was very lonely.

Hermione sighed and pulled her knees closer to her chest. She had been relying on Fleur to force this confrontation, just like she had been relying on her to initiate kisses between the three of them. It was a bit cowardly, really.

Hermione wondered whether she was really cut out to be part of this relationship if she was already passing the buck on day one.

Then her cheeks began to redden as she felt a powerful burst of emotion over the bond, shaking her almost into sending back unintentionally. What were Harry and Fleur doing in there? In the space of a moment she was terrified, excited, jealous, and remorseful.

She had just gotten herself worked up enough to stand and was approaching the door when she heard a confident tone coming from the other side.

" _Alohamora!_ " Harry said, and then opened the door. Standing a few feet away was an upset, anxious looking Hermione.

Harry did not spare any words and simply took her hand and led her to the bed, where he sat down next to Fleur and pulled Hermione with him.

" _Hermione, please don't hide._ "

Hermione bit her lip nervously and once again opened herself to the bond. She took a sharp breath as feelings of concern, care, and intense interest flowed into her.

Harry and Fleur, next to her, felt the same immediate sense of relief.

"' _Ermione, please do not do zat again,_ " Fleur sent with relief.

" _I'm sorry! I was just so embarrassed..._ "

"You're not the only one who's been thinking about all that," Harry said, charging through his own nerves. "I've been thinking about you two almost since we woke up."

The green-eyed wizard looked at them both, then spoke again. "There's nothing wrong with feeling that way, is there? I don't think there is." He hesitated as both Fleur and Hermione remained silent.

"No, I don't think there is, Harry," Hermione answered. She gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. "It's just easy to get worked up about it all."

"There is no shame is being attracted to someone," Fleur commented.

"You'd think it would be easier to be honest about it with us having this bond," Hermione said in self-recrimination.

"Magic does not make us honest, 'Ermione," the older girl placed her fingers on Hermione's chin and gently lifted until they met each others' eyes.

" _I'm sorry for shutting you both out like that,_ " the girl sent. " _I just need to get used to all this._ "

Harry, who was watching every motion of Fleur's hand as the two girls locked gazes, swallowed nervously. "You're not alone there. I'm a little scared too."

The young man's frank admission prompted both girls to lean in and hug him. Hermione snuggled happily against him for a moment before she spoke.

"What was that about when you two were in here alone, anyway?"

Harry's instant and vivid recollection of the kiss made the girl's brown eyes go wide. A giggling Fleur added her own perspective on the events, leaving Harry and Hermione feeling quite warm.

"I almost would 'ave let you get away with anything, love," she said as she looked at Harry.

His heart raced as he saw Fleur lean in and kiss Hermione lightly on the lips.

"But 'e is ever a gentleman, so 'e made sure to go and find you first."

Unable to form a reply, Hermione communicated her thanks to the other two with another embrace.

"So," Harry said softly, hesitant to break the contact, "we can take our time then?"

Hermione nodded in answer and kissed him. "As much time as we need."

"But no 'iding," Fleur said seriously. "Zere is nothing to be afraid of."

Harry put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "No hiding."

Preparing for bed was a little troublesome, as each felt more than a little emotion through the bond while they took turns in the bath, but in the end nervousness and arousal gave way to exhaustion and Harry fell asleep between Fleur and Hermione, worn out but unquestionably happier than he had ever been before.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Nine

AN: It has been a while since my last update; I must mention that I was really surprised at the number of negative reviews I received. Many of them were very well-considered, and I appreciate the time people took to discuss what they thought. Naturally, I also received a great many positive reviews after the last chapter, and I cannot thank those readers enough.

The negative feedback really got to me though. Where did I want to go with this story? Did it feel, as many comments mentioned, "clichéd"? Was Harry getting lost in the story? Was he being too soft, not assertive enough? Too reliant on Fleur and Hermione? What about the soul bond and the basilisk?

I thought about all of that a great deal. It has been my intention from the beginning to write a soul-bond into the story, just as it has been my intention that Harry inherit considerable wealth. There are reasons for this, but I would rather explore them in the story than an author's note. I feel that I have a pretty solid understanding of my main cast and what I want to see in the Harry Potter world. I know where I want them to go.

At the time of this writing, there are over six hundred thousand HP fanfics just at this site. I've read quite a few myself, and I have enjoyed and continue to enjoy many of them. However, none of them are exactly the story I wanted to read. If you are looking for that, the only way to get it is to write it yourself. That's what I am trying to do.

Thanks once again to all the readers and reviewers of this story. My apologies for the time since my last update; it has been a busy spring thus far.

HPHPHPHP

**"He ought to be very well-mounted who is for leaping the hedge of custom." - Revd. Adam Hill**

Ginny Weasley opened her eyes Saturday morning feeling a little better than she had the night previous, but not much. The revelations about Harry's marriage and the soul bonding had been trying for the young girl, but she had done her very best to remain cheerful. Knowing that she was headed back into the Chamber of Secrets today was not exactly good news either, and the nightmares she had expected had indeed made an appearance.

Watching Harry, Hermione, and Fleur walk into their private quarters in the Gryffindor common room had been the most difficult part of the day. Her housemates had been ready to burst with curiosity before Neville and Ron had headed them off long enough for her to make it to the dormitories. Sleep had been long in coming.

The young red-head had not cried. She had trembled, and frowned, and felt altogether angry, jealous, and uncomfortable, but there had been no tears. Ginny felt quite terrible in her reaction to Harry Potter's newfound happiness. In the early light of dawn her anger and disappointment seemed to her awful and ugly, thoughts and feelings that she could show to no one unless she wanted them to hate her.

As she turned to get out of her bed, caught up in self-recrimination and the desire to hide her feelings away from her friends, Ginny came up short and gasped when she saw a small book on her bedside table. For an instant, rather too long an instant, it had looked just like the diary.

The girl laid back in bed, her lips drawn into a thoughtful expression as she waited for her heart to stop racing. In her first year she had felt very much alone. Her brothers were busy, her parents were gone, and Harry Potter was altogether occupied with his own affairs. All her most secret and hidden thoughts, the ugly and terrible ones she wanted no one to discover, had fed that awful diary and given it power over her, given _him_ power over her. The diary had been Voldemort's, yes, but it had also been Ginny Weasley's.

She remembered hearing somewhere that the truth only looked apparent in the open air and sunlight.

Maybe her feelings needed a little bit of sunlight as well.

Resolved, Ginny got out of bed and readied herself for the day. Hiding would accomplish nothing.

HPHPHPHP

The first thing Fleur noticed as she awakened was the quiet. She had been living in dormitories at Beauxbatons for years, and while her classmates were not always rowdy they were seldom silent. At home, Gabrielle made it a point to be with her sister as much as she could; Fleur loved her younger sister and loved spending time with her, but Gabrielle was always very chatty. In the carriages this year she had become accustomed to constant close-quarters activity. In the tournament, there were crowds and reporters and the endless attention of the students from all three schools.

Fleur was used to the noise, but this silence and stillness was not uncomfortable. Perhaps, though, that had something to do with the company.

The newly-married witch smiled and snuggled closer against her husband's side. She and Hermione had elected to sleep on either side of Harry last night, who had confessed quietly that he had never slept alongside anyone before. Fleur glanced at his peaceful expression and could not help but smile even wider. Harry looked very gentle, very calm.

The French girl watched him for a few more moments, wondering idly how it would feel to walk beside him when he was just a little bit taller. She gave his arm a light squeeze, then carefully pushed herself up to look over at her wife. Hermione looked to be sleeping as close to Harry as she was herself. The younger girl's lips were parted very slightly, and Fleur warmed as she thought of the kisses the three of them had shared the night before.

It had been a very nervous beginning, but things had worked out well. Looking at her bedfellows, Fleur felt hopeful for the future.

As she laid her head down again, fully prepared to stay in bed and not disturb the other two, Fleur heard Hermione's extremely girlish yawn, followed abruptly by a feeling of panic over their bond. She sent a reassuring pulse of emotion to the other girl.

" _Good morning, Fleur. Sorry, things just felt very different when I woke up._ "

Fleur could hear the warm undertone to Hermione's thoughts, and responded in kind. " _Eet eez a wonderful feeling to wake next to you both_."

" _Should we wake Harry?_ "

" _Want to wake him with a kiss?_ "

She glanced up and saw Hermione's nod. "Snuggle up to 'im first," the veela girl suggested quietly.

She and Hermione edged closer to Harry, and both put an arm over his chest. They looked at each other and then Fleur kissed him lightly on the lips. As he started to stir, Hermione did the same before pulling back and burying her face against his neck, giggling.

Harry opened his eyes slowly. He felt very warm. Hermione was giggling lightly, and he could feel her lips against the base of his neck. Fleur was rubbing his chest idly; he turned his head and saw her grinning.

He had never felt so safe, so comfortable and secure, in his life. Hermione looked up wide-eyed at the burst of happiness from her husband, then smiled.

"I love you, Fleur and Hermione. I'd never even dreamed I could feel like this."

Both girls pulled themselves closer to him as they sent their love over the bond.

A few moments later Fleur spoke. "I want to wake like zis every day."

"I do too," Harry agreed as he met her eyes.

"Then we will," Hermione stated authoritatively. "I never want to give this up."

The brown-haired girl flushed as her husband and wife turned to regard her with identical expressions of affection.

"We'll be together tomorrow too," Harry said happily.

"And every day thereafter," Fleur finished.

Harry took both their hands and laid his head back down. "I wish we could just stay here today."

"Maybe tomorrow, Harry, when we've got some of this nonsense behind us," Hermione said as she squeezed his hand.

"A day in bed?" Fleur's voice was mirthful. "I do not mind, 'Arry," she noted calmly as she leaned in for another kiss.

" _That's why I asked,_ " came Harry's answer over the bond. He then proceeded to pull the older girl on top of him. At her expression of surprise, he merely grinned. "Gryffindors charge ahead, Mrs. Potter." He turned to Hermione with a hopeful expression. "A little help, Mrs. Potter?"

In answer, Hermione proceeded to drag a laughing Fleur between them before testing for ticklish spots.

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Albus Dumbledore was feeling his age as he made his way out of his office and toward the great hall for breakfast. He had slept poorly after the events of the day before, and felt that he was being pulled along by the tide of events already this morning, a feeling he absolutely did not like.

Dobby had just left him to return to his master; the great hall was to be the scene of a remarkable announcement this morning, and Dobby had been there to relay Harry's suggestions.

The old wizard snorted. _Suggestions you cannot refuse are usually called orders_. He should know; Dumbledore had given more than a few in his time.

There had been no time thus far to make any of this known to Severus; Dumbledore would just have to keep an eye on things as they unfolded. He had never suspected the depth of dislike that Snape had for Harry Potter, and indeed was not even fully aware of it until last year. The old man sighed. In the end, it was hardly a surprise that Harry was untrusting. Too many things had piled up over the years, one after another after another.

But perhaps not all was lost.

True, he had revealed the prophecy, but he had managed to keep his suspicion about the horcruxes a secret. Furthermore, Harry himself was arguably more stable than he had ever been; Dumbledore had initially wanted Harry to look to him as a mentor, but his newfound wives seemed to offer a very reliable influence on the boy in any case.

This morning would be Dumbledore's next attempt to get into their good graces. He already had plans circulating for the summer and the following school year, but he needed to wait until the tournament concluded to see whether any of them would float.

Dumbledore wanted Harry ready to follow his suggestions when the confrontation with Tom Riddle came to a head. Depending on what they discovered about the horcruxes and about Harry, those suggestions might be very unpalatable indeed.

The prophecy pointed a way to fix Dumbledore's mistake with young Riddle all those years ago. He was not about to let it get away from him. If that meant temporarily swallowing his pride and angering Severus Snape in the bargain, then both Dumbledore and the potions master were just going to have to deal with it.

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The great hall was awash in whispers and rumors as breakfast was served. The Beauxbatons contingent was looking very thoughtfully at their headmistress while asking questions of the Ravenclaw students about their champion. Certain of the Hufflepuffs had heard from a few Gryffindors that strange things had been afoot in the Gryffindor common room last night, and that Harry Potter was in the middle of it.

The Slytherins seemed almost as chatty as the Hufflepuffs this morning when it came to the fallout from the second task of the tournament; Malfoy's earlier success in ostracizing Harry had had the strange side effect of opening better channels of communication between the houses.

All the houses remarked on the new additions by the head table; two couples, from the looks of them, and a young girl. One couple seemed to be Fleur Delacour's parents, while the young girl could be none other than her sister.  The other was an unknown.

At the Gryffindor table Ginny, Neville, and Ron sat silently and refused to answer any questions about the eyewitness reports of Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour, and Hermione Granger in the common room the night before.

Luna Lovegood answered all questions directed at her with quotations from Browning.

Most disturbingly of all, the Weasley twins were not saying anything. After a few glances at their younger siblings, they had remained steadfastly silent.

More than a few students noticed when Rita Skeeter and a photographer appeared at the back of the hall. At the head table, none of the faculty moved to ask why she was there.

A few moments after Rita's entrance, Harry Potter strode into the great hall with a look of complete calm on his face, flanked by Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger. All around them, conversations fell, then rose excitedly. The trio was headed straight for the head table.

As they approached, Dumbledore rose from his seat. "Students, honored guests, we have a few announcements this morning. As you know two contestants and one participant in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament collapsed after the event concluded. They are here, quite healthy and well once more, and they have a few things to say."

Dumbledore looked down at Harry Potter. The young man looked a trifle nervous, but even as he watched the young wizard mastered himself and nodded at the headmaster.

Harry and the two girls turned to face the students. The great hall was silent; every eye was on them.

" _Here we go,_ " Harry sent.

" _You will be fine, 'Arry,_ " Fleur replied soothingly.

" _We're here beside you,_ " Hermione noted.

The youngest champion took a breath, then spoke. "Good morning, everyone." Harry's voice sounded a bit shaky in his ears, but his wives assured him he sounded fine. "As you can see, Hermione, Fleur, and myself are feeling all right. What I am here to announce is what happened exactly at the second task."

He paused for a moment before continuing. "Although this is a personal matter, I know that my personal business has been popular reading lately." He heard a few chuckles around the hall and smiled. "This time I actually want to say what is going on myself before anyone gets any wrong ideas, because this is important."

Everyone was very attentive now. Harry continued. "The reason that we three all fell unconscious after the task is that Hermione, Fleur, and myself have formed a soul bond. As of this past Wednesday, we're all married to one another."

The great hall erupted into chaotic noise. Cries both astonished and disbelieving could be heard among the din. Harry felt Hermione's embarrassment over the bond and took her hand, offering comfort. She smiled at him gratefully. Fleur put her hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed.

"Silence!" The headmaster's voice rang out. Very quickly the students sat down and became quiet. "Please allow Mr. Potter the chance to finish speaking. He elected to announce this private matter; offer him and these two young women the courtesy of listening."

Harry turned to nod thankfully at Dumbledore. Looking back over the crowd, he suddenly found it hard to believe he was actually doing this. Harry Potter, who hated attention? Standing before three schools to announce this?

" _Zis is for you, 'Arry, and for us,_ " Fleur sent as she squeezed his shoulder.

" _We're doing what we need to Harry, so we can have some control here,_ " Hermione assented as she squeezed his hand.

" _I'll do my best, then,_ " Harry sent. "I didn't want to have to talk about this. I don't really care what anyone says about me." He looked over the crowd, and his brow tightened slightly. "I do care what people will say about Fleur and Hermione. Make no mistake, we are bonded magically and legally. I will take action on behalf of my family for any derogatory remarks about them."

Muttering could be heard around the hall. Suddenly a voice that sounded suspiciously like Fred Weasley shouted out, "Way to go, Harry! Congratulations you three!"

Applause started at the Gryffindor table, where Harry's friends all joined in happily. Luna led the Ravenclaws by about five full seconds, after which the Hufflepuffs also joined in. The Beauxbatons students were all clapping, some more enthusiastically than others, and so were the Durmstrang students. Harry thought he saw Krum giving him an approving nod. Even most of the Slytherins looked pleased; a soul bond, Harry had learned, was highly regarded in the wizarding world, and definitely something worth celebrating.

Fleur leaned over and kissed him, leading to more applause. The Weasley twins were actually on the table now, performing an impromptu dance. Hermione leaned in a little more shyly and kissed him as well. All three then waited for the noise to die down.

It took a few minutes, during which Professor McGonagall leaned over to offer her congratulations. All of the others seated at the head table did likewise, apart from Snape, who sat silent and unmoving except for a brief bout of polite applause.

Once the noise died down, Harry, now feeling much better about the morning, spoke again. "There's something else, actually," he started.

"No way Potter, you've got two already!" Someone called out. The crowd laughed and Harry played along, looking sheepish.

"I think he only needs two, thanks very much!" Hermione's voice rang out louder than she had anticipated. A chorus of cheers and applause met this announcement, and the young witch turned a bit red at the attention.

Fleur meanwhile just leaned against Harry and waited for the noise to abate. When it did, he continued.

"Nothing like that, really!" He laughed a bit, then caught Ginny's eye across the room. He nodded at her before he moved on. "It's about the Chamber of Secrets." A hush fell over the great hall and people were now looking very interested. "Something happened in my second year here. Students were attacked and petrified, and despite everyone's best efforts no one could stop it. I was a suspect because I'm a parselmouth." He tried to ignore the renewed muttering at the tables.

"I am, but it turns out it was a dark creature that was responsible for the attacks. It was a basilisk." People were looking at him, very curious now. "I managed to rescue a student from it; I killed it in the Chamber of Secrets below the school." He held up a hand as some of the students started asking questions. "Look, that's what happened. Hermione figured out what it was before she was petrified. I killed it, and now I'm going to have the goblins from Gringotts go down into the Chamber and sell it for me, since it’s mine according to the Forest Laws."

Harry looked over the crowd. "The proceeds are going to be divided up, one share for Hogwarts and one each for every victim of the basilisk. And one other one, for Ron Weasley, who went down there with me but was lost in a cave-in before we made it all the way there." Everyone in the great hall was staring at Ron, who was beet-red at the attention.

"We're going down to get it today, so if you really want to see a giant monster, well, you know, apart from those dragons and whatever Hagrid's working on, you can see it outside the school later today." Laughs rang out around the hall about the dragons and Hagrid. Everyone seemed excited about it. "Thanks for listening everybody."

Cheers came from the Gryffindor table as Harry, Hermione, and Fleur sat down next to Ron, Neville, and Ginny. Harry Potter was once again the subject of conversation in the great hall, but this time it all seemed pretty positive.

" _Zat was excellent, love. Maybe you should be a politician, no?_ " Harry could hear Fleur's amusement in the sending.

" _Maybe not. Have you met the Minister of Magic?_ "

" _Better things to do for now Harry, like finishing school first?_ " Hermione asked.

" _Among other things._ " Harry grinned as the two girls tried not to look too amused.

"Harry, you didn't have to say those things about me. But thanks." Ron's voice was unexpectedly emotional.

The young wizard turned to his friend. "It was the truth, mate. Just the truth."

"Thanks for not mentioning me by name, Harry," Ginny said nervously.

"Sure Ginny. I know you didn't want to be bothered about it right now. You still want to come with us?" He regarded the youngest Weasley seriously.

The girl nodded. "I do."

Throughout breakfast, students came by to congratulate the three of them. Amazingly, there was not an unkind word spoken. Snape left the hall quickly. Malfoy did not make an appearance, nor did Rita Skeeter.

Looking at the head table, Hermione waved to her parents. They looked happier this morning. She hoped they would not react too badly to the basilisk.

Harry laughed as he tried with Fleur to decide whether Dobby and Winky could make a decent French breakfast for them tomorrow. Nothing had really dented his good mood so far. Now all they needed to do was deal with the basilisk and visit with their respective in-laws; hopefully they could get some time alone tomorrow after Hermione's and Fleur's parents left.

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"The Chamber of Secrets is in a girls' bathroom?"

Harry had to laugh as he overheard Lee Jordan's remark. "I don't think it was a bathroom a thousand years ago, but it is now."

A substantial group of students had ended up following Harry, Fleur, and Hermione to open the Chamber of Secrets. The goblin contingent had been all business when they entered the great hall, and Harry had seen no real cause for delay. Harry couldn't really blame the students; the whole affair did seem pretty compelling.

Dumbledore was right up front, and Harry leaned over to speak. "Professor Dumbledore, I don't think there's anything dangerous down there, but the basilisk still has its fangs; I'm sure they're still deadly."

The old wizard nodded. "I believe you are correct, Harry. I would like to have a limited number of people come with us; they will, after all, get to see the basilisk once the goblins retrieve it."

" _Fleur, Hermione, do you think you can get whoever you want to come with us? It might be a little dangerous if we let people just come along._ "

" _Of course 'Arry. I will get Viktor, Cedric, and the little Luna Lovegood._ "

" _I'll grab the other victims, if they want to come._ "

" _Thanks. Looks like Dumbledore is letting this be our show today. He must be anxious to get on my good side._ "

"' _E 'ad better. This was not 'is doing, it was you two who saved the school._ "

" _It was Harry, really._ "

" _I'd never have done it if you hadn't figured out what was going on._ "

Fleur smiled as she felt them demonstrating their affection through the bond. Neither really enjoyed taking credit for their own actions like this; she was glad she was here to help make sure they got the positive attention they deserved.

"Ginny, you all right?" Harry asked the girl quietly while Dumbledore cordoned off the area.

"I'll be all right, Harry." She offered him a shaky grin. "I'm safe now."

He smiled and turned to Dumbledore. Ginny, unnoticed, sighed heavily. It was hard to get over your crush when he simply refused to be anything but kind.

After a nod from Dumbledore, Harry advised Fleur that they were ready.

"Your attention for a moment, s'il vous plait." The part-veela's words quieted the crowd. "My 'usband is about to open the Chamber; we are going to retrieve the creature and return. Please do not panic when you see these very efficient goblins bringing it through ze entrance."

"You've seen it, then? Been in Salazar Slytherin's Chamber?" A Slytherin girl called out.

" _That's Daphne Greengrass, Fleur. Slytherin in our year. She's clever, in Runes and Arithmancy with me. No fan of Malfoy, but no fan of Gryffindors either as far as I know_."

"Oui, Miss Greengrass, I 'ave." She leveled a calm gaze at the younger girl.

The younger blonde showed the barest trace of a frown.

" _Fleur, Harry, I think she ought to come down with us._ "

" _Why?_ "

" _She's one of the smartest girls in Slytherin, and she's in our year. Her family's in all the big registers so they must be rich, but I don't think I've heard of any Greengrasses convicted as Death Eaters. Might be nice to have a friend in Slytherin._ "

" _You've convinced me. Fleur?_ "

Fleur assented over the bond, then spoke. "Miss Greengrass, would you care to come with us? We 'ave no other Slytherin students, and a member of the founder's house would be welcome."

The Slytherin girl looked at her very inquisitively for a moment before replying. "I would be pleased to accept your invitation, Mrs. Potter." She inclined her head differentially before stepping forward.

" _Mrs. Potter?_ " Harry sent, somewhat surprised.

" _Told you she was worth asking. Wouldn't it be nice for someone like that to be on our side?_ "

Harry had to agree.

"Septima, could you accompany young Miss Greengrass?" Dumbledore asked. At the woman's brisk nod, Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Proceed, Harry."

Harry turned toward the wall and took a breath. He recalled the painful events of second year in a flash, the accusations that he was the Heir of Slytherin, the loss of Hermione, Ginny's disappearance, Lockhart's treachery, and finally Riddle's diary. Now, he would be voluntarily displaying his abilities as a parselmouth to the whole wizarding world.

" _It is good to tell ze truth, 'Arry. That you are a parselmouth is just one more skill._ "

" _Go on, Harry. We'll be with you._ "

Reassured, Harry spoke. "Open!"

The gathered group of students, faculty, visitors, and goblins flinched a little at the sound of Harry's voice, but many gasped at the appearance of a newly revealed entryway.

"Stairs!" The serpentine speech came again, and the stairs appeared. The whole crowd was whispering madly. Rita Skeeter was threatening her photographer with physical violence if he failed to come through with great shots of the whole affair.

The boy-who-lived turned and regarded the group with a calm expression. "Let's go then."

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Daphne Greengrass could not help but smirk as she walked down the dimly lit cavern toward Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets. Baiting the French veela had turned out to be a brilliant move. It was highly unlikely that Dumbledore would be letting anyone down into the Chamber after the basilisk was recovered; in fact, even coming down at all would have to be at the pleasure of Harry Potter.

And she was to be the only Slytherin student to see the founder's secret Chamber. This would most definitely go over well with the rest of her house. If she played her cards right, she might even manage to usurp Malfoy's grip on her year.

She frowned, thinking of Malfoy. Her own family was an ancient one, pure-bloods all, but they had never supported Lord Voldemort in his attempt to overthrow the government of wizarding Britain. As her parents had explained to her when she was a young girl, they currently stood at the helm of their entire society. What possible place did they have to go but down?

Draco Malfoy had much going for him at Hogwarts. He had a rich fiancée, two loyal goons (useful for something, at least), and a seemingly infinite supply of money from his father. Professor Snape seemed eternally on Malfoy's side in any and every circumstance. And, of course, there was the not unimportant fact that Lucius Malfoy had been on the Hogwarts Board of Governors.

All in all, it was difficult for Daphne to make inroads. There were not that many Slytherin students per year, after all, and Draco had a complete lock on at least three apart from himself. Plus he was a boy, which Daphne well understood gave him a strong advantage in their world. Add to that Draco's apparent rivalry with Harry Potter and he ultimately had the support of the entire house.

Now, though, it seemed that things could be shaken up. The Slytherins had been easy to rally against Potter thus far; he knew nothing of their culture or customs, dressed very poorly, had apparently no money despite the Potter's well-known wealth, and even, according to rumor, lived in the muggle world by choice every summer. It was quite appalling to her parents, and she knew that most other families felt even more strongly about it than that.

Daphne, though, had kept her ear to the ground over the years, and it seemed that he was not doing all of this quite by choice. Her careful conversations with Granger in their shared classes had revealed a much different Harry Potter than the one generally caricatured by Malfoy and Snape.

The business with the Heir of Slytherin in her second year had been quite thought-provoking. Even now she was certain that they were not being told everything, but what they were hearing was quite interesting. Harry's speech this morning had been quite uncharacteristic; he'd seemed very comfortable up there, and his threat about retribution for his family struck a chord with the members of her house.

He'd sounded like a Slytherin, really.

And now there was the business of the soul bond, which cast everything into a different light. Granger and the Delacour girl were his wives now, sanctified by magic. No noble house was going to complain about that; it cut to the heart of their whole doctrine of magical purity at the center of their society. In addition, since they were all married, Potter was now an adult and the head of his house. He had complete control of his estate at fourteen, and that estate should be substantial.

Harry Potter had become a very desirable friend to have.

He even looked quite attractive. Maybe it was the confidence from his two wives, but he looked much more grown-up than Daphne remembered from the past. He'd always looked rather dashing in his quidditch uniform, but that confidence was now on display in the hallways as well.

No girl looks bad having an attractive friend, even a married one. Daphne watched as they reached a huge stone door and Harry opened it with another parseltongue command. She followed the rest of the small group into the Chamber proper. Yes, she was going to have to act fast.

Then the light from Dumbledore's wand hit the basilisk.

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Harry heard the sharp intakes of breath and exclamations of disbelief as Dumbledore's wand illuminated the Chamber. He wasn't too surprised, really; that basilisk had scared the hell out of him the first time too.

"Everyone, please stay back until the headmaster has had a chance to ward the basilisk properly. That venom is still potent, and I know from experience how fast it works on you."

He could see shock on everyone's faces, including the professors. McGonagall looked like she was ready to attack the creature herself. Even Krum looked amazed, which was not something Harry had ever expected to see. Looking around, he did notice that Luna did not appear to be frightened.

Somehow, that was not a surprise.

Rita Skeeter found her voice a moment later. "Mr. Potter, you said you have experience with basilisk venom? Doesn't that venom kill almost instantly?"

Hermione took his hand at once, and Fleur moved to stand close to them. "Yes," Harry began, "I have." He rolled up his sleeve to display the ugly scar left by the basilisk's fang. "I was poisoned while fighting it, and I would have died without help from the headmaster's phoenix. It cried into the wound and allowed me to survive."

The assembled group spoke among themselves, trying to take in this news.

"How did you kill it, Mr. Potter? The beast looks to be twenty meters long!" Rita asked.

"Yes, well, I stabbed it in the head. With the sword of Gryffindor."

If Harry's tone had been less matter-of-fact, if they had not heard him speaking parseltongue moments before, if he were not standing right in front of the dead basilisk, they all would have thought he was joking.

"Is this true, Mr. Potter?" Griphook called out.

"Yes, Griphook. It's in the headmaster's office now."

The goblin nodded. "I would like, if possible, to see it before we leave today."

"That would be perfectly acceptable, Griphook," Dumbledore replied as he moved away from the carcass. "Incidentally, the beast is now warded and cannot be touched directly. You should be safe to observe it more closely." The wizard turned to Harry, who nodded. Dumbledore continued, "No one else will be allowed to visit the Chamber at present. Please feel free to discuss what you have seen here, but do not pester Mr. Potter to let you in."

With that, Rita motioned to her photographer, who was already snapping away. The reporter started moving around to interview members of the small crowd.

The Weasley twins, along with Ron and Ginny, approached Harry quietly.

"Harry, we don't even know what to say-"

"You killed that thing, and saved Ginny-"

"Whatever you want, we'll do it-"

"Anything you need."

Harry smiled at the twins, then looked to Ginny. "All right, Ginny?"

"Better, Harry. Definitely better." The young girl smiled. "Seeing us all here makes everything seem a lot less scary."

Ron added a little more loudly, "I can't believe you killed that thing with a bloody sword, mate."

"Yeah, well, I didn't have my wand." Harry commented without thinking.

All around him, everyone started staring again.

"Are you serious, Potter? You didn't even have a wand?" Cedric Diggory looked flabbergasted.

"Well, yeah," Harry said a little uncertainly. "I just had to do without."

Harry felt Fleur and Hermione's mutual amusement over the bond.

"What did I tell you about him before ze ball, 'Ermione?" Fleur said in a lighthearted tone.

"I only made it because of help from others." Harry said.

Hermione looked at him a little impatiently. "Harry, anyone else would have run away."

The young wizard could not help but bit his lip and look away at that.

Other members of the crowd spent a few moments examining the Chamber and the basilisk. Viktor Krum shook Harry's hand. "You are vone hell of a champion, Harry Potter."

“Isn't 'e though?" Fleur assented.

Cedric nodded. "Glad this isn't one of the tasks."

They all shared a good-natured laugh at that one.

A few moments later Harry saw Daphne Greengrass approach him. "So the sword of Gryffindor, Potter? Guess you're not the Heir of Slytherin after all then." Her tone was light, and Harry smiled in reply.

"Not really. But you know," he commented humorously, "the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."

Shock was apparent on Daphne's face. "Really? Why didn't it?"

"Well, Malfoy had been a real git that day. I didn't want to be in the same house as him."

Daphne almost wanted to believe he was joking, but even Granger was nodding along like she knew the story. She had to laugh, albeit nervously. "You don't mind if I tell a few people that, do you?"

"Go ahead. It's the truth." He shrugged.

Fleur saw the look of careful calculation on the Slytherin's face before the younger girl smiled prettily. " _'Ermione, this girl is definitely going to be using this to 'er advantage._ "

" _Let her. She's a hundred times the Slytherin that Malfoy is. At least she knows that being kind to us is useful._ "

Harry had to agree with that, as he would have missed Daphne's expression himself had it not been for the bond. " _Ready to let the goblins go up?_ "

The girls agreed silently.

"All right, I think that Griphook needs to get moving. Can you all stand aside and let his team get to work?"

HPHPHPHP

Dan and Emma Granger had not entered the Chamber of Secrets; Dumbledore had advised them that there might well be magical wards designed to punish non-magical people from attempting to enter, as it was the Chamber of the pure-blood founder. The Delacours had offered to stay with them near the entrance, and they were glad for the company. Emma greatly enjoyed speaking with Fleur's younger sister Gabrielle, and Dan and Emma both found Charles and Apolline to be charming and respectful.

Dan was forced to admit that his daughter's newfound in-laws were extremely pleasant people. They had even extended an invitation to Southern France over the summer. Emma was presently engaged in a quiet conversation in French about the Delacour's family home, with Gabrielle excitedly mentioning the details to her. Dan's French was passable, but not as good as Emma's; he let her keep the conversation going.

Dan had been quite impressed with his daughter's performance alongside Harry Potter and Fleur. Looking at it objectively, he could see that she was really very happy. With Charles there to help go over more of the legal intricacies of the magical world, he was feeling much better about the whole business. For once, he and Emma knew something about the situation, and were here themselves to address it.

It was not quite control, but it was better than not being involved at all.

Then there was Harry and Fleur. He and Emma had privately concluded that they certainly seemed very good for their daughter. Both Dan and Emma were well-educated and not particularly judgmental in their regular lives; although they had both wanted a pleasant, normal life for their daughter, they had known since her invitation to Hogwarts that it was simply not in the cards.

Emma seemed to be very happy to finally witness the world her daughter inhabited. Dan mostly agreed. At least this way they could be closer to her.

And then he saw the troop of goblins exiting the Chamber's entryway, and saw what they were carrying. Emma clung to his arm, trembling. Around the hallway they heard a great deal of screaming. The Delacours were quietly comforting their daughter.

"The boy killed that? That thing?" Dan could not help his incredulous tone.

Privately, he hoped that such dangers were not at all common. His daughter had already made up her mind to face them.

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"We will contact you regarding the total value, fees, and disbursement arrangements over the course of the extended sale in a few weeks, Mr., rather, Harry." Griphook noted. The goblin was in rather a good mood despite the day's gawking; his young client was bringing a large amount of money and very welcome publicity to Gringotts, and as an added bonus he was able to see that the sword of Gryffindor was recovered and secure.

It wasn't in Gringotts, but it was at least safe for now.

"Thank you, Griphook. We appreciate your assistance today."

Griphook nodded at the French veela. "Of course Mrs. Potter. And I will be looking over the warding of the properties as a security measure, as we had discussed."

With that, the goblins, led by Griphook, made their way to the portkey point outside the wards.

Harry turned to Fleur and Hermione. "Well, I'm exhausted. At least Skeeter's gone. What are we doing this afternoon?"

"Besides dealing with questions from everyone in the castle?" Hermione commented, shaking her head. "I would like to walk around and have dinner with my parents before they return home this evening."

"Moi aussi, 'Arry. My family will be returning to France this evening. And you know that Gabrielle is dying to talk with you again." Fleur's eyes were mirthful.

"All right, let's do it then. I suppose tomorrow we've all got work to do."

Fleur and Harry felt Hermione's astonishment over the bond. "That's right! We missed the whole week! We had better buckle down tomorrow."

Harry exchanged a knowing look with Fleur before they both replied to Hermione.

"Yes, dear."

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The trio did not emerge from their rooms until lunchtime on Sunday. They had managed a very pleasant evening with the families before they departed; Harry felt that even Dan Granger was warming up to him. Plans for Easter were tentatively arranged, and things overall were very genial. Harry did not quite feel at ease, but it was worlds away from any family experience he had had before.

Afterward, the Weasley twins had gotten all of Gryffindor house to throw them an impromptu party. Justin Finch-Fletchly was vocal in his appreciation for Harry's heroism; the Weasleys also spoke up. It was altogether a very pleasant, if tiring, evening. The trio eventually had to promise that they would let the rest of the house check out their living quarters soon, as everyone was burning up to see what they looked like.

Dobby and Winky had put together a very passable French breakfast, which met with Fleur's approval. Both elves were pleased, and reported that house elves in the kitchens were all envious of their new arrangements.

Hermione insisted that they get some work done before noon, and Fleur likewise insisted that they go to the great hall for lunch, since staying in their rooms, however enjoyable it might be, was not going to convince the other students of their normalcy.

Harry did not mind; he enjoyed the work in any case, and it was much more fun with both girls at his side. He felt so different that it was almost unnerving. Not even the prophecy could dampen his good mood. Both Fleur and Hermione assured him that he was just finding out what happiness felt like, and that they felt the same.

It was very comforting.

Down in the great hall they saw many students reading over Rita Skeeter's coverage of the day before. Based on the approving glances and shouted words of congratulations they were receiving, she had stuck to her end of the bargain.

After they say down, several of the Beauxbatons students came by to congratulate Fleur while carefully checking out Harry and Hermione. Hermione felt a bit more secure, since Fleur had helped her get ready. Harry had assured them both that they were the most beautiful witches in Hogwarts.

Harry also received a very formal letter from Arthur Weasley, thanking him profusely for the consideration shown to his family and apologizing to Fleur and Hermione on behalf of his wife.

He was just thinking over what to do about Molly Weasley when Fleur alerted him over the bond to an incoming annoyance. He turned just in time to see Draco Malfoy open his mouth.

"Well Potter, finally got a good word in the _Prophet_? Too bad we didn't get any more sob stories about your parents. I guess if you were ever going to get married it would be a mudblood and a half-breed."

Hermione and Fleur could feel Harry's anger almost overwhelming him. " _Harry, don't do anything foolish!_ "

" _Zat man Snape is watching very carefully. Be calm, love. Zis boy is a fool._ "

Harry stared at Draco for a long moment, his muscles taut and his hand itching to reach for his wand. The words of his wives burned in his mind. Finally he closed his eyes and turned to sit back down again. He felt the pulses of curiosity over the bond.

"Too much of a coward to say anything Potter?" Draco's voice was loud and angry now.

"No, I am not." Harry's loud but calm rejoinder surprised everyone, even Snape. Without turning, he continued. "Your words about my family were insulting. I believe I said something about that yesterday. However, I don't need to discuss that further with you. As head of my family, I will be addressing that to the head of yours by letter later today."

" _Oh that was nice love. He's gaping like a trout now._ "

" _Ze boy 'as overstepped his bounds, yes?_ "

" _I'm betting Lucius Malfoy isn't going to like writing an apology to me._ "

"Go sit down, Draco. You're embarrassing Slytherin House." Came Daphne Greengrass's voice.

Draco's face was almost purple with anger. "Potter, what are you talking about? Just wait until I tell-"

"Malfoy you dolt, Harry's telling your father himself! Now go back to your own table." Hermione looked at the boy in disgust, then turned to look at Daphne across the hall. "Want to have lunch together, Greengrass?"

Everyone, even the staff, was silent. Harry turned to Hermione quizzically, but the brown-haired girl merely grinned.

"Sure, but I guess I can't call you Granger now can I?" Daphne called as she stood and walked across to the Gryffindor table.

While she made her way over, Malfoy left the great hall in a hurry, flanked by a confused Crabbe and Goyle.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" Ron whispered loudly from across the table.

"Making friends." Hermione replied.

Harry could not help but smile at that. Ron had no reply.

" _Alliances too, 'Ermione?_ "

" _Could easily be both,_ " Hermione replied.

" _Nothing wrong with that, I guess. She seems nice enough._ "

" _Smart enough, too_." Hermione noted as Daphne arrived at the table. She sat down next to the brown-haired witch and smiled pleasantly at the incredulous looks of the other Gryffindors.

"Lunch, then?"

Fleur replied in the absence of any real greeting from the Gryffindors. "Thank you for your words, Ms. Greengrass. Ze boy is most irritating."

"Daphne, please, and I was only too happy to call him down." the blonde Slytherin replied.

"Then it will be Fleur, yes?"

"And Hermione. Three Potters would get a little confusing." Hermione added.

"Then it will be Harry, Daphne. All right with you?" Harry looked at the girl inquiringly.

"I think that will do nicely, Harry." She looked around with a winning smile at the varied expressions of the students around the Gryffindor table. "Hermione, would you care to work on some Arithmancy after lunch? You've been out and I'd appreciate the help."

Harry elected to start on lunch as Hermione agreed to study together with Daphne.

" _She is not shy in going after what it is she wants, 'Arry. She may 'elp us wiz ze other 'ouses_."

" _Hermione seems to think so too. Hopefully more of the Slytherins are like her than they are like Malfoy._ "

Harry had to chuckle a little at the thought of Malfoy. He would need Hermione and Fleur's help of course, but this letter was going to be extremely amusing to write.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Ten

AN: I truly appreciate all the consideration given by reviewers after the last chapter. Thanks very much for your support!

This chapter contains a few short items penned by Gabi-hime. If you have not read her fanfiction, you should do so.

HPHPHPHP

" **A woman especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can." - Jane Austen, _Northanger Abbey_**

On Tuesday morning, a very beautiful brown owl delivered a lovely sealed envelope to Harry Potter in the Great Hall. Harry had received quite a bit of mail of late, and much of it had been rerouted to his new quarters directly.

This letter had been made to arrive in public, however. Harry, Fleur, and Hermione remained outwardly stoic as they received it; across the hall, Draco Malfoy was visited by the same owl.

His letter was already red.

After the enraged tongue-lashing given to Draco by the howler, which had the entire hall laughing at Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's furious commentary on their son's childishness, the trio opened their own correspondence.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I must extend my most profound regrets for the hurtful and damaging remarks made by my son in reference to the esteemed persons of Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Potter. His statements were entirely uncalled for and admittedly were quite unseemly behavior for a young man of his situation. I beg your gracious leniency in forgiving him of his trespasses. I am embarrassed to admit that he is still a child with little concern for the seriousness of his position. I have had cause to redress him on the subject of family honor and sincerely hope that this will be the last time you have to waste your valuable time in consideration of his poor behavior._

_Again, I thank you for your tact in bringing this matter to me directly, and I hope that in future the Potters and the Malfoys may have the pleasure of a more cordial relationship than we have had in past times. The world is only so large, after all._

_Congratulations on assuming your proper place as rightful head of the Potter family, sir. I look forward to meeting you in proper society._

_I remain,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

They managed not to laugh out loud themselves, but did engage in some sporting reflections on Lucius Malfoy's prose.

As for Draco's letter, it was repeated in small selections around Hogwarts for the remainder of the week.

HPHPHPHP

Neville Longbottom was anxious about the next Hogsmeade visit. To those who knew him in passing, this would hardly merit any surprise; Neville was usually anxious about almost everything it seemed, and interaction with his peers in an unsupervised environment would naturally head the list. He could be worried about being gently bullied into spending the "honorably meager" allowance granted to him by his grandmother. He might be concerned about Friday's double potions class and a possible detention that would prevent him from leaving the castle. He could even be concerned about embarrassing himself around his friend Harry Potter's two wives, particularly the pretty French witch.

There was some element of truth in all three, but that last one hit closest to the mark. In fact, Neville was not concerned about making a fool of himself in front of Harry's dates. He was worried about making a fool of himself in front of his own.

Tuesday's potions with the Slytherins had been different from the usual torture for Neville. Before class, the Slytherins themselves seemed rather subdued, and mostly refrained from snide remarks about the Gryffindors. This might be attributed to Draco's letter from his father, or simply from Harry Potter's popular ascendency, but it was a nice change for Neville. Once Professor Snape entered, however, things rapidly went downhill.

"Where are Potter and Granger?" Snape's voice was cold with anger. Undoubtedly the howler had already put him on edge.

When silence had met this question, he had asked it again, even more angrily this time. The Gryffindors had just looked at each other; none of them knew anything about this absence in advance.

While trying to make himself unnoticeable, Neville had had the misfortune to knock his pestle off the table, after which it made a very loud impact with the dungeon floor. Instantly Snape's eyes had been upon him.

"Longbottom, answer my question. Where are Potter and Granger?"

When Neville remained silent, Snape grew livid.

"Longbottom, answer the question! Where are Potter and Granger and why aren't they here?" Snape was genuinely infuriated now.

Neville had looked at the Professor, then taken a deep breath. At times like this, he really wished he did not have to be afraid, but even though he was, this needed to be said.

"S-sir," he had said haltingly, meeting the older man's gaze, "I believe that it is Mr. and Mrs. Potter now." In the shocked silence that followed his assertion, Neville had followed up quickly. "But I don't know where they are, Professor. I thought they were on their way to class this afternoon."

Having said that, Neville had retrieved his pestle and set about organizing his workspace. He had not looked up at Snape.

Snape, for his part, had contained his shaking anger and turned to the board to begin the lesson.

Neville had survived the lesson and produced a passable potion; once class was over, he headed out into the hallway, only to be congratulated by his housemates for his incredible show of pluck. Suddenly they had all gone quiet as a Slytherin broke ranks and walked over.

Lee Jordan had given a low, appreciative whistle. "I think she wants to talk to you, Longbottom."

Swallowing, Neville had looked a smiling Daphne Greengrass in the eye. "H-hello Ms. Greengrass."

She had cut him off with a laugh at that point. "Ms. Greengrass? Really Longbottom, you've got the rest of these monkeys beat hands-down for manners." Neville had flushed crimson as she had leaned forward and said softly, "I rather like that, you know."

Choosing brevity, Neville had merely replied with, "I'm glad, then."

The blonde had then shaken her head and dampened her lips with her tongue. "Neville, you don't mind if I call you Neville do you?" She took his nervous nod in stride. "I don't have a date to Hogsmeade this weekend. Would you mind escorting me?"

Neville was so focused on her eyelashes that he almost could not frame a reply, but luckily was able to keep eye contact. "Well, I'd be glad to! That is, I would be happy to escort you, um," once again Neville had found himself wishing that he was a bit braver, like his housemates, "Daphne." He did not wince when saying her first name, but it was a near thing.

She had smiled again, a sweet, adorable smile he thought, before replying. "It's a date, then. Thanks Neville. See you around." Then she had turned and walked away, and Neville had watched.  Carefully. 

And that had been that - followed of course by enthusiastic catcalls from every male Gryffindor in the hallway, which were repeated _ad infinitum_ in the common room that evening.

Even Harry Potter had patted him on the back and congratulated him. Neville had found that to be a very welcome experience.

No word on why they weren't in class, though.

Now, at least, he had something new to worry about. What was he going to do in Hogsmeade with Daphne Greengrass, anyway?

HPHPHPHP

Winky looked over the plate of croissants with a critical eye, alert for any sign of overbrowning. They were fresh from the ovens, only moments away from delivery to her master and mistresses.

If they passed muster, of course.

"Winky," Dobby's voice called out over the hubbub of the busy kitchen, "Coffees and teas is ready. Is you wanting to go bring breakfast to the great Harry Potter's family?"

Dobby sounded very pleased with himself. He often did these days; the Hogwarts elves were generally very fond of Harry Potter, and his newfound soul bond had only made them more reverent. As the trusted confidante of the great wizard Harry Potter, Dobby was only too happy to relate how considerate and kind "Miss Fleurs" and "Miss Herminee" were to him.

House elves generally showed deep respect for familial connections and hospitality; the Potter trio's clear mutual affection and kind regard for Winky and Dobby was much praised around the castle.

Dobby was happier than he had ever been. Winky, on the other hand, was rather troubled.

Weeks ago, she had been very upset when her mistress, the former Miss Granger, asked questions about Master Crouch. She had cried and carried on, and in the end had answered no questions at all. Her mistress had assured her that Winky's happiness was paramount, and that if she did not want to speak of her former master, she need not ever do so.

Now that Winky had had time to reflect, she could not help but be aware how different her life was with her new family as opposed to her old one. She was never given anything remotely resembling a disagreeable chore, she was thanked for basically everything she did, and she was even given a place at the table for meals whenever her family was in their rooms.

Maybe it was just Dobby's viciously honest appraisal of his former masters, the Malfoys, but Winky was beginning to accept that things had not been very nice before.

Master Crouch had made her do many strange things, things she knew were very ugly and maybe even wrong. She had been sworn to secrecy, and even under a new master such an oath was almost impossible to crack.

But every day that she spent around her new family she felt the urge to break that secrecy more. She didn't even know whether they wanted to know anymore. Maybe she could talk about it soon, if they asked.

Maybe.

"Winky? Is you being all right today?" Dobby's concerned tone shook her from her musings. He was still holding the tray with coffee and tea.

"Winky is being very fine, Dobby. Breakfast is done; we can bring it to the master and mistresses now." Reassured by her own businesslike tone, Winky focused on the matter at hand.

No need for her family to starve while she puzzled this out.

HPHPHPHP

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I hope that this missive finds you and yours very well indeed! Congratulations on your recent marriage to those two lovely ladies, about whom too many ill words have been written. My friends and I were so pleased to read the news in the_ Daily Prophet _! We are all hoping that you return to your proper station in wizarding Britain-_

_Dear Mr., Mrs., and Mrs. Potter,_

_Many happy returns on the joyous occasion! My own niece was just married herself in a marvelous ceremony, her only and dearest wish was that you three could have been in attendance! Naturally I advised her that you were all very busy with school and tournaments and the like, and that surely you would not be able to escape even for such an event as this! We do hope that in the future we might be able to visit-_

_Dear Mrs. Fleur Potter, née Delacour,_

_It is with complete contrition that I write this letter humbly begging your forgiveness for the dreadful letter owled by my daughter to you some weeks ago. Her words were ill-chosen and poorly intentioned, and I have of course taught her the error of her ways. Please accept my family's most humble apologies for her insulting behavior-_

_Mr. Harry Potter,_

_Sir, we offer our congratulations to you on the occasion of your marriage and legal adulthood. As an adult in wizarding Britain, there are a great many opportunities for a man such as yourself to find projects worthy of your consideration for investment. I have such a project to outline for you here! My firm is interested in pursuing the bottling of muggle electricity as a form of refreshing, invigorating beverage for general consumption by the wizarding public. We believe we can offer an easy 200% profit margin in the first year, less advertising fees! For this project to get off the ground, we would only require a starting sum amounting to-_

_Mr. Harry Potter,_

_You wily scallywag, you. I see you're set on making sure that there'll be plenty of little Potters in the next generation, what with your two pretty little wives. I'm writing you this letter today to tell you what an inspiration you are to those of us who someday aspire to have two wives of our own-_

_Mrs. Harry Potter, née Granger,_

_Our heartfelt congratulations for your recent magical wedding! I am writing to advise you of our work involving the distribution of textbooks for the students of Britain who, like yourself, come from muggle parentage. These texts include all manner of proper forms of behavior and dress common to wizards and witches in this great nation, and have proven invaluable to earlier generations of students. We ask your consideration for a small donation of your choosing-_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_Congratulations on your recent marriage! As you are known to be a Quidditch-loving young gentleman, we would like to offer you the usage of our soon-to-be-released line of products for broom maintenance and repair as a courtesy-_

"Seriously, how many of these things are there?" Harry groaned as he leaned back from the table to rub his eyes. The deluge of letters had begun the day after Skeeter's article had gone out, and had not showed any signs of stopping since then.

"We just need to review a few more, Harry," Hermione noted from behind her own stack. "We have Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon, and I don't want to be late."

"If we let them build up, it will get out of control." Fleur noted as she set a magical form-letter reply onto the letter at the top of the stack. "We need to make ze appearance of availability for now."

"Good thing Hedwig doesn't have to deliver all of them, anyway. She'd likely nip my fingers off." Harry grumbled as he attached a polite form reply of his own to yet another "business offer." His owl was busy enough with official correspondence and letters to the more prominent families.

Only a few days in, and it all seemed quite ridiculous. "You both think this will die down then?"

"Yes Harry, it will. Plus it's ever so much easier since we got all the form replies working, isn't it?" The brown-haired girl noted as she sent off another reply.

The young wizard had to agree with that. Fleur had created a base magical reply template and they had all worked on a few form responses; it beat working on two dozen letters a day anyway. It really only took a half-hour or so to sort through it all.

They had all agreed to work on it personally, rather than farming it out to some letter-answering service, in order to have complete control over what it was Harry Potter and his family were saying to people.

"If we can't trust Dumbledore, then we need to capitalize on all this positive attention ourselves," Hermione had stated. Fleur had concurred, adding that popular regard was basically a priceless commodity in politics.

Harry had agreed after a brief argument, and then had thrown himself into it after admitting they were right; in fact both girls had noted that his letters were by far the most personal and polite.

Not quite as polite as Lucius Malfoy's reply on Tuesday had been, though. Harry smiled and looked over at the binder where he'd placed it. The contrast between his letter and Draco's howler made the whole experience that much better, really.

Casting the whole thing as "old family" business had been a good decision; Lucius Malfoy had to discipline his son publicly and make further remarks to the Potters by Draco a subject of intense scrutiny.

It had only been two days, but Draco seemed quite shut up by the whole affair. It was very pleasant.

Harry had never dealt with his fame before. Fleur and Hermione had helped him to understand that he would need political clout if he wanted a trial for Sirius, at the very least. All three of them worried about the prophecy, but popular regard could not but be helpful if Voldemort made an appearance.

Harry took another letter off the dwindling stack. If he could do some good for Sirius, make the case that Veela were to be regarded as regular magical citizens, and maybe eventually stop idiots from calling Hermione a mudblood behind her back, it would be worth some effort on his part. At least he seemed to have a knack for it.

_Harry,_

_Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can._

Both Fleur and Hermione felt Harry's alarm and anticipation through the bond. He looked up and met their eyes, grinning. "It's Sirius. He wants us to meet him this Saturday."

HPHPHPHP

The trio headed down to lunch while discussing the matter of Sirius Black over their bond.

" _I think we should get him a place to live. Do you think he could live at one of our houses?_ " Harry asked thoughtfully.

" _We haven't seen them yet, but it has got to be better than him wandering the countryside looking for food._ " Hermione commented.

" _Perhaps over ze break for Easter?_ " Fleur suggested. " _We could all go away for ze week._ "

Harry thought that one over. He had never left for the Easter holiday; having a holiday with both Hermione and Fleur seemed too good to be true.

" _I think I'd like that_ ," he sent.

Hermione's response was warm. " _Maybe we can visit our families for a day or two as well_."

They were all about to sit down and Harry was ready to reply in the affirmative when he heard a very angry shout coming his way.

"Potter, why weren't you in my class? With your lack of proficiency you need all the instruction you can get." Snape's eyes were narrow, and his voice dropped. "Although you seem to do well enough at stealing from my stores."

Harry and Hermione shared a bemused grin, while Fleur just looked perplexed.

"Answer me!" He snapped.

"Well, we, that is Hermione and myself, will not be attending your class ever again," Harry replied calmly, trying not to smile too broadly.

"Is that so, Potter?"

They were once again the center of attention as Snape's voice grew angrier. Ron, seated next to Seamus, went wide-eyed.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for your attitude, Potter. Be in class Friday, both of you!"

"I don't think we will be," Harry stated. Next to him, Hermione took his arm and nodded in agreement.

" _Time for the Dumbledore signal?_ " Harry joked over the bond.

" _He's got to be good for this, at least,_ " Hermione replied.

Snape had an expression of disbelief on his face. "Potter, your insolence is-"

Harry cut him off with a wave of his hand, which actually shocked Snape into silence. "Why don't we take this up with the Headmaster, then?"

"Potter, both of you, detention! This is absolutely-" Snape's frothing anger was suddenly cut down by a word from the head table.

"Severus," the headmaster intoned very seriously over his lunch, "Let's speak in my office."

Looking as though he had swallowed a peach pit, Snape jerked his head in reply and turned to follow Dumbledore from the hall. At the headmaster's motion, Harry and Hermione followed.

" _Enjoy lunch, Fleur. Hopefully this won't take very long._ " Hermione sent.

" _Do let me know if Snape begins weeping,_ " the blond witch replied.

Hermione could not help but snort and giggle audibly as she left the hall on Harry's arm.

Back at the table, Fleur sat down to lunch with a serene expression and began hunting for something light. All around, students were totally uncertain about how to approach her. Finally Ginny Weasley found the nerve to speak.

"What was all that about, anyway?"

Fleur's smirk had every male in a five-meter radius feeling dizzy. "Just putting ze professor in 'is place."

None of them had anything to say about that.

HPHPHPHP

They had been in Dumbledore's office for ten minutes already, and Harry had to hand it to Snape: he was every bit the child that he always accused Harry himself of being.

" _You know, in retrospect I'm not surprised I set his robes on fire. I certainly don't regret it. I'm sorry for all the times I told you to respect professors unconditionally,_ " Hermione commented as she observed Snape shouting at the headmaster.

Harry chuckled at Hermione's rundown of the situation.

"Is there something funny here, Potter?" Snape turned to regard the young wizard with a furious gaze.

"Not at all. Please carry on." Harry gestured toward a frowning Dumbledore and kept his expression carefully neutral.

"Severus," the headmaster broke in to divert the younger professor's attention, "understand that young Harry is well within his rights to ask for private tuition. He has my personal support here as well. Is there some issue I have overlooked?" Dumbledore looked dispassionately over his glasses.

" _He's definitely on our side in this one,_ " Harry sent.

" _He had better be. We'll see what he says when you announce you'll be leaving Hogwarts for the next holiday._ "

" _I doubt he'll be very happy about it._ "

"The boy has no respect for the laws of this school, headmaster. This will only contribute to further poor behavior on his part." Snape took a moment to swipe his hair back. "I know that he has been stealing from my private stores. Boomslang skin and gillyweed at least."

"Is this true, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.

"I do not know what he is talking about, sir. I don't think I've ever even heard of gillyweed before." Harry replied honestly.

"I would like to make a request, headmaster," Hermione spoke up.

"Yes, Mrs. Potter? What might that be?" Dumbledore voice was genial. Snape's frustrated expression had not changed.

"May we go, that is, Harry and I? You appear to have made your decision, and we do not want to interfere in a matter of staff discipline." The witch's voice was prim and even.

" _That was a good one, love. You know, I find it hard to believe that Snape entered my name in the competition._ "

" _I agree, it doesn't seem like him. He's just too petty. You know he rather reminds me of Ron sometimes, if Ron happened to be good at potions._ "

" _By the way, ze Weasley boy is making a mess of 'is lunch even now. Might these table manners be a stand-in for ze greasy hair?_ " Fleur sent from the great hall.

It took all Harry's willpower not to laugh; he covered for himself by standing.

"May we go, headmaster?"

The old man looked at him for a moment before responding. "Yes, you both run along. Give my regards to the absentee Mrs. Potter as well." Dumbledore waved them out of the office and turned back to the still-fuming Snape.

Harry and Hermione departed. The headmaster had mentioned that he had a possible tutor for them; they would need to meet with Dumbledore privately once more before making any decisions.

HPHPHPHP

"I just don't trust that girl," Ginny Weasley commented as she peeked surreptitiously, or rather what she thought of as surreptitiously, around the shelves of the small jewelry store in Hogsmeade. "Come on, they must have walked out while we were looking around."

"Were you looking around?" Luna Lovegood asked pleasantly. "I thought you were sneaking."

"Luna," Ginny began impatiently as she herded her friend out the doorway, "We are _not_ sneaking. We're looking out for Neville."

Luna said nothing, but instead merely stared at her red-haired friend silently.

It was a pleasant day in Hogsmeade, and most students were taking time to stroll around a bit before heading indoors for shopping or a snack. With the second task of the tournament and its associated drama finally behind them, everyone was looking ahead to the final round of the Triwizard Tournament. The fifth and seventh year students at all three schools were busiest, naturally, but even they were glad for the day off. Gossip, never in short supply in one school, much less three, was flitting around faster than thought: Harry Potter's marriage, speculations on his love life, envy from boys drooling over Fleur, and talk about next year's Gryffindors if Harry and Hermione chose to move to France headed the list. There is always room for more chatter, however, and the Longbottom/Greengrass date was hotly debated in many quarters.

Ginny had forcibly recruited her Ravenclaw friend in order to monitor Neville Longbottom's much talked-about date with Daphne Greengrass; Luna had offered no resistance, but had asked several pointed questions about why exactly Ginny was so interested.

The youngest Weasley had done her best to dodge that line of inquiry; honestly, she felt a bit of loyalty to Neville for his unfailingly polite escort at the Yule Ball. He had danced well, too. She didn't think she was in love with him, but she definitely did not want to see Daphne manipulate him for some dubious purpose. Neville deserved better than that. Hearing her friend's comments, Ginny decided to fight back.

"I notice you've been spending quite a bit of time around Neville recently, Luna. Maybe you're the one who's worried about Daphne Greengrass?"

It was true; Luna was very often to be found in Neville's company in school. She talked quite freely about all manner of strange things, which never seemed to bother the young wizard; in turn, she was pleased to listen to his thoughts about botany generally and magical botany in particular.

"Neville has been kind enough to walk me to class and study with me, Ginevra," the smaller girl noted calmly, "though he has not yet bought one of those small tin animals for me, he will not be getting one for Daphne Greengrass."

"You don't think so?" Ginny replied uncertainly.

"How could I think otherwise? Oh look, there they are." The small blonde girl gestured in the direction of the Three Broomsticks; Daphne was leading Neville toward the entryway.

Before Ginny could reply, Luna had already walked away, heading directly toward the unlikely Slytherin/Gryffindor duo.

Then she called out to them.

"Neville!" The Ravenclaw girl waved lazily. "Might you wait a few moments?"

Neville turned around and waved back, smiling at the younger girl. "Hello Luna!" At his side, Daphne frowned momentarily before smiling pleasantly.

"Hello Ms. Lovegood, having a pleasant day?"

Luna nodded her head thoughtfully before replying. "I believe so, Ms. Greengrass. My friend Ginevra Weasley has been a little anxious however." She inclined her head vaguely as Ginny walked up with an awkward smile on her face.

"Hello Neville, Daphne. Having a good day?" Ginny bit her lip slightly.

The young wizard smiled kindly and nodded. "Yes, thanks very much."

"Anxious? Why Ginny, are you quite well?" Daphne leaned forward to examine the younger girl, who was now blushing. Luna, leaning casually to observe, abruptly tripped and fell forward. Neville caught her handily.

"Are you all right, Luna?" He asked worriedly.

"Just frightening the nargles, Neville," she said calmly as her wide, unblinking eyes met his own. "They need a good scare, lest they interfere." She paused a beat, then continued, "Your arms are very comfortable, you know."

He swallowed audibly and flushed, then set her gently back on her feet. Luna placed a finger over his lips before he could stammer a reply. "There's no need to say anything, Neville. A gentleman must needs gracefully accept compliments from ladies." She glanced over at a red-faced Ginny and an impatient Daphne. "Would you like to have lunch with us?"

HPHPHPHP

Sitting in the Three Broomsticks across from Neville Longbottom, waiting for her dessert to arrive, Daphne Greengrass had to concede a grudging respect for Luna Lovegood. As one girl to another, she was strong enough to admit that she had been totally outmaneuvered.

Within moments of entering the building, the seemingly dotty Ravenclaw had daintily sidestepped Daphne and gotten Neville to take her arm. At the booth, she carefully pulled him to sit beside her by lowering herself onto the seat while holding his hand, muttering something about dentygores hiding exclusively in varnished walnut.

Neville had only rarely taken his eyes off of the small blonde girl, and now that he was her captive at the table, his left hand was firmly clasped in her right.

Daphne was not angry, though. In truth, it was intensely amusing to watch Neville Longbottom trying so earnestly to be polite and considerate while so clearly being flustered by the younger girl's attention. While some of her fellow housemates could be very polite when they wanted to be, rarely were they as kind as Neville.

Daphne was not angry with Luna. She was, however, a little jealous; Neville Longbottom had been quite a gentleman on their brief date, and was better read and more articulate than she would have thought. _Gryffindor girls clearly don't know what they're missing,_ she reflected.

Next to her, Ginny seemed unsure how to react to Luna's flirting with Neville; Daphne made sure to engage her in conversation to smooth things over. Much to her surprise, the Weasley daughter was quite chatty about her Arithmancy studies, once she had gotten over her initial reluctance. There was definitely an element of uncertainty and distrust between them, but Daphne had expected that; many pureblood families were notoriously uncharitable about the Weasleys, and Arthur Weasley was known to be very proud of his family. It had clearly carried over to his children, and that was something she respected.

This inter-house friendship was really not as difficult as people made it out to be. In fact, if she was simply friendly with Longbottom and the youngest Weasley, that could itself be more convincing than dating someone. Everyone can appreciate someone who seems non-threatening, and once word got around that Luna Lovegood had stolen Daphne's date, it would be easy to have Ginny Weasley help her spin it the right way to evoke gentle amusement and sympathy from the Gryffindor girls.

Daphne looked across the table and met Luna's gaze. As the younger girl smiled absently, Daphne was certain she saw clear understanding in those grey eyes.

A tactical withdrawal, then. The campaign would go on.

"Hello then, nice dining party you have here, Neville! I think the other guys are going to be pretty jealous." Harry Potter called out as he placed a hand on the other boy's shoulder.

"Don't tease him, Harry!" Hermione said. "Good afternoon Neville, Luna," she looked around the table and nodded in greeting, but caught herself staring at Luna's hand over Neville's. "Ginny, Daphne," she finished awkwardly.

"Just being honest Hermione; did you see Dean Thomas over there? He looked like he was ready to boil over."

"Where is Fleur, Harry?" Daphne asked, eager to move the conversation along.

"Over getting our basket from the kitchen. We're having a little picnic today." He replied easily.

"I hope you aren't doing that because people are bothering you three, Harry," Ginny said nervously.

"No, we're fine," Hermione stated. "Just wanted some time alone, and it is a nice day after all."

"I hope you enjoy the company then," Luna's voice was even.

Harry's eyes widened a moment before he was able to conceal his surprise. Fleur rescued him as she walked over.

"We will 'ave a very fine time on our picnic, Luna," she said over his shoulder. "'Arry, could you take zis for me?" She gestured toward the overly large basket in her hands.

"Sure, Fleur," he smiled. "Well, have fun! We'll see you back at the castle."

"Thanks, Harry," Neville managed, still looking a bit nervous.

"Enjoy yourselves, you three," Daphne said.

"Thanks for saying hi," Ginny said, looking a little more comfortable.

Luna just smiled dreamily and waved with her left hand.

Her right, after all, was still occupied.

HPHPHPHP

"So do you think anyone's going to start rumors about Neville's three girlfriends now?"

"Harry!" Hermione called as she swatted him on the shoulder. "Poor Neville would die of embarrassment."

"I think that ze little Ms. Lovegood looks to be ze only girlfriend, anyway." Fleur commented as she looked around the lane.

" _Really?_ " Harry sent with surprise. "You think so, Fleur?" He asked audibly.

"I saw her holding his hand," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Who knows though? I'm sure no one expected her to ask Viktor Krum to the Yule Ball; she's hard to get a read on."

"She likes 'im," Fleur said definitively.

"Well, I hope so. Neville seems to like walking her around the castle." Harry squinted, then looked around carefully. " _This is the place. Do either of you see him?_ "

"He's very reliable," Hermione said matter-of-factly. " _There, upwind. He hasn't seen us yet._ "

" _Do you think 'e will like me?_ " Fleur sent.

" _Trust me, he'll like you,_ " Hermione replied with a roll of her eyes.

"Hello there Snuffles. Want us to follow you?" Harry called out as the large black dog bounded into the lane. The dog nodded in reply and took off away from the path.

The trio followed behind as Padfoot ran along further and further from town, watching carefully for possible observers. After fifteen minutes of walking the dog led them into a small cave; Harry followed with his wand at the ready, a _lumos_ cast.

Harry's first thought was that Sirius looked thin, very thin. Despite his condition, the marauder's eyes were bright as he smiled at his godson.

"Harry, it's great to see you! Sorry you have to see me this way, but I'm glad you three could come." He looked over and nodded approvingly at Hermione and Fleur. "I've been scrounging through the papers lately; congratulations, all of you. It's wonderful news. And thank you two girls very much for being there for my godson." Sirius' voice caught a little on his last remark, and he coughed and turned nervously to cover it.

"We're the lucky ones here, Sirius. Harry is wonderful," Hermione said cheerfully.

"Sirius, I know you've met Hermione of course, but this is Fleur. Fleur Potter." He smiled softly as he held out his hand for the older girl to grasp. "Formerly Delacour."

"Mrs. Potter," Sirius began with a smile, "It's wonderful to meet one of my godson's beautiful wives. I only wish it could be under better circumstances."

"Mr. Black," she began.

"Sirius, please!" The gentleman interjected as Harry and Hermione grinned at each other. "I do hate to feel old."

"Sirius, then," Fleur continued with some amusement, "We 'ave brought some supplies for you," she said as she gestured to the picnic basket behind them.

"Real food!" Sirius' eyes gleamed. "Sorry, it's been mostly scavenging and rats for me here. I managed to transfigure Buckbeak's feathers black so he could head out to fend for himself." He gestured to the basket. "Do you mind terribly?"

"Of course not, Sirius! Eat, and we can talk." Harry walked over to begin unloading the fare.

Sirius was served (and scourgified) by the trio, much to his amusement. "This is the best day in Hogsmeade I've had since Hogwarts!" He laughed, shaking his head.

After he had sated his immediate hunger, he consciously pulled back and regarded the three visitors speculatively.

" _I really want to tell him about us setting him up in one of the houses,_ " Harry sent to the girls.

" _Go ahead, Harry. Dobby says he can definitely have the place ready in time._ " Hermione added.

" _I know you are excited to 'elp him, love_."

"Sirius," Harry began, "I know you wanted to meet us, but I have a great idea."

"What is it, Harry?"

"I've inherited a few houses, and I want you to be able to hide out in one. You know, instead of being here. We can sneak you in, have Dobby bring you food; you can be safe and comfortable while we try to sort out the whole mess with Wormtail and your trial!" Harry was very excited, and looked to his godfather for approval.

"Well," Sirius looked a little concerned, "I'd love to get out of this cave, but I don't know if I want to drag you into this any more. You could go to prison if I was ever found out."

"But we'll take every precaution! No one has access to the properties but me, Fleur, and Hermione. They've been shut up for years." He leaned forward anxiously. "You're my family, Sirius. I want to help."

The older man had to look away at that; he rubbed away a few tears before he could reply. "Harry," he said slowly, looking at the floor of the cave, "I love you, and I wish I could help you. It's the greatest compliment you could pay to me, the words you just said, really. I worry that I will get you into more trouble. I already failed you once, the night Lily and James..." His voice died, then he shook his head and continued. "That night all those years ago, and then I failed again last year with Peter." He looked Harry in the eye; both of them were on the brink of tears. "I don't want to fail you any more than I already have."

"Sirius!" Harry choked out. Over the bond, both girls were sending encouragement.

"I think that you would be 'elping 'im more by being safe, somewhere 'e can find you when he needs," Fleur said as she took Harry's hand in her own.

"I agree. Plus, we think we might be able to visit over Easter, saying we were going to stay at one of Harry's houses," Hermione offered. "Harry, well, all of us I guess, could use another tutor."

"Especially one we can trust," the young wizard added.

Sirius looked over the three of them and smiled softly. "Thanks, all of you. Harry, you're a hell of a lucky wizard. Lucky as your dad was, it looks like." He looked approvingly over the two witches. "I'll do it, but we need to make sure the houses are properly warded. It'll be pricey, but make sure the goblins redo them all. Not just one, but all of them, otherwise it will look suspicious. Once I get there I can start doing some work of my own." He seemed a bit frustrated for a moment. "Too bad I can't cast the _Fidelius_ charm."

"I already have the goblins working on warding; I'll make sure they'll be done before the holiday."

Hermione looked interested. "You know, I've done a bit of reading..."

" _A bit?_ " Harry sent amusedly.

" _Perhaps she is remembering improperly, 'Arry._ "

"You two!" Hermione said, miffed. "Anyway, I know it's quite complicated, but I think that Fleur and I can pull it off with a day or two to cast."

Sirius was looking at them with an expression of amazement on his face. He shook his head, then replied. "You two, cast it together? Are you connected mentally through the soul bond?" As they all nodded in return, he brought a hand to his forehead in shock. "Merlin. That's incredible, you three. You know this will be a really powerful asset, right?"

"We do, but we need someone who can help us work on it for spells and fighting, someone tricky," Harry's mouth became a line, "Someone who has enough mental discipline to stay sane after twelve years in Azkaban." He paused and watched his godfather carefully. "Will you help us?"

"I'll do what I can, Harry, definitely. You may want to bring someone else in on this though."

Hermione's face lit up with realization. "Professor Lupin!"

Sirius nodded. "I did a good bit of improvisation in our time, during the last war, but Moony's a great hand for tactics. Really a master of spell application."

“This is ze other marauder?" Fleur commented. At their nods of agreement, she continued. "Then we can contact 'im this week. It would not be unusual for your parents' friend to meet with you over the 'oliday, yes 'Arry?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry said, now quite excited.

"We should make sure he gets paid, Harry. You know werewolves have a very hard time of it," Hermione said.

"True enough, and Moony's never one for charity," Sirius added.

"We'll set Fleur on him," Harry laughed. "She's the best at that." He smiled at the silver-blond haired girl.

"She's the negotiator in the family," Hermione explained, looking at Fleur happily.

"Speaking of, what's this about you divvying up the money from selling that basilisk?" Sirius looked curious.

Harry nodded at Fleur, who spoke. "Well, there were a few victims. Some were ghosts, and one was a cat. The people who were 'armed, none of them were purebloods. There was 'Ermione, Colin Creevy, the Finch-Fletchley boy, and Penelope Clearwater. 'Ermione forfeited her part of the money-"

"Because really, I happened to fall into a very good situation," the brown-eyed girl in question grinned as she squeezed Harry's arm.

Fleur smiled and continued, "We included one share for 'Ogwarts, one for Ronald Weasley, and one for ze young lady, Ginny Weasley."

"So what's the reasoning there, you three?" He quirked an eyebrow.

"Filch will be getting a raise and a nice retirement fund out of it, which should keep him off our backs," Harry noted hopefully. "Plus, Penelope Clearwater is dating Percy Weasley; it's pretty serious apparently."

"So," Sirius looked thoughtful, "You managed to bypass Arthur's pride for once? He'll have two children with quite a bit of money, plus a possible daughter-in-law?"

Harry nodded. "That was the idea. Once I found out about the inheritance, I realized I didn't need it anyway. Mrs. Weasley has not been particularly kind about Fleur or Hermione, but the Weasleys have been very good to me."

"This seemed like the best way to help without being too obvious. I don't think Mr. Weasley can refuse, and naturally his children will help out their family whenever it's needed." Hermione added.

"As for the others, well, a little goodwill in the old pureblood style seemed like a good way to impress the Slytherins." Harry grinned wryly.

"Agreed, Harry." His godfather looked impressed. "I know it's the sort of 'I don't care about money' gesture that my parents would have appreciated anyway." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Anyway, the reason I asked you to come out here." He took a breath. "We need to talk about the Triwizard Tournament, and what exactly is going on out there."

"Well," Harry began, "We know that Mr. Crouch was in Hogwarts sometime in the weeks after the Yule Ball. We saw his name on the Marauder's Map." He winced. "Almost got caught, too."

"And 'e is known to be ill and not working. The Weasley brother, Percy, was here at the Yule Ball and spoke of it to us."

"Plus, someone broke into Snape's office, and he has been claiming that Harry's been stealing from his private stores." Hermione added.

"And you never actually saw Crouch?" Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, not since. We've not been looking or anything though. We were out to get Skeeter."

"You might want to start, but be damned careful." Then he grinned. "Nice work with Skeeter, then. You three got her to write those articles?" The trio looked pleased. "Not bad, not bad at all. Maybe you can be the Marauders' next generation then."

"Well, Hermione has been pretty willing to break the rules lately..." Harry offered in mock-seriousness.

"Honestly!" The brown-haired witch in question huffed. "It's only the ones that are really a problem."

The other three occupants of the cave snickered.

"It's all right, love. You can be as rebellious as you like outside of ze library."

Hermione rolled her eyes in reply.

"Anyway, you three need to look into this. Crouch was never the sort of a man to act this way; tough as nails, even put his own son in Azkaban." The wizard frowned. "Pitiless man. I saw Crouch and his wife visit just before his son died there. But this business about Fudge covering for him, Percy Weasley taking his place, him not being seen... it's all too odd. And then there's Bertha Jorkins disappearing on holiday, and this muggle, Bryce, killed under odd circumstances."

"Moody said that he was never one to trust any death eaters, Crouch I mean. Do you think," Harry hesitated, "Do you think it might be related to Voldemort?"

All of them looked solemn. "I don't know, Harry, but with some unknown person confounding the Goblet of Fire and entering you into this tournament, it's a possibility. Wasn't it your wand that was used to cast the dark mark at the World Cup?"

"Yeah, it was. They said Winky did it, Crouch's house elf."

"I don't know," Hermione said doubtfully.

"She was very worried about speaking about 'er master's secrets, 'Ermione." Fleur regarded the younger witch seriously. "Perhaps we can ask her again."

Hermione looked troubled, but nodded. "It might be best, if she does know something. Give me a few days to think how we should ask her, though. She was so upset last time."

"She's your elf now?" Sirius looked surprised.

"Yes, Winky and Dobby both," Harry replied.

Sirius looked thoughtful. "Well, that's handy. Basically no students have an elf of their own, and absolutely none at Hogwarts."

"Do you think it is because Dobby and Winky consider 'Arry's home to be 'Ogwarts?"

"Maybe. It's definitely not normal, so make the most of it. They can save your life."

Hermione looked like she wanted to ask more about it, but refrained. "It doesn't seem like Crouch would be a man who would voluntarily work for Voldemort. He dismissed Winky without a second thought just on the suspicion that she was involved in something dark."

"You're right about that. Something's up, and we don't have enough information. Keep your eyes peeled when you get back to the castle, and let me know about the holiday. I can help you prepare for the last task at least, whatever it is." He glanced at Fleur. "That goes for my godson's wife as well, of course."

She flashed a winning smile at him. "I knew that 'e got 'is charm from somewhere, Sirius."

"With any luck, I'll be a little more charming once I can take a shower."

"One other thing," Harry said. "Snape." As soon as he said the name, both girls felt the resentment over their bond.

"When we found out about his office being broken into, Moody was there. He said Snape was a death eater, and Dumbledore confirmed it." Hermione looked uncomfortable.

"Snape is the one who overheard the prophecy and gave it to Voldemort." Anger crept into Fleur's voice. "That man is the one responsible for the death of 'Arry's parents."

“Prophecy?”  Sirius asked.

 

Harry looked at the two girls, then explained what Dumbledore had told them.  Shock was evident on Sirius's face; then he became angry. "That bastard. So he ratted them out, then went running to Dumbledore after..." He ground his teeth. "Once Lily was dead."

Harry looked concerned. "Why my mother?" When his godfather did not reply, he asked again, more insistently, "Why Sirius? Why after she died?"

" _Harry, remember that this might be hard for him._ "

" _Your godfather is still a fugitive, my love, and this must be a terrible memory. Give ‘im time if he is nervous about answering._ "

" _I know, really. I just... I just want to know why he did it._ " Harry took a moment to calm down. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I'm just... I just get worked up about it. Snape has been after me ever since first year, and it has only gotten worse since."

"Sorry, Harry.  It’s just that Dumbledore didn’t every tell me anything about this prophecy; neither did James and Lily.” Sirius had the ghost of a smile on his face. “It's bad memories. I don't mind telling you, but just don't take this to Snape; he's tougher than he seems. He... well, he was sort of after Lily."

Harry's eyes went wide, and his wives moved closer to offer comfort.

"It's true; he was. Your father was, well, we all were pretty rough with pranks, and Snivellus was never very likable. Your mother defended him, at least until he turned around and insulted her too, called her a mudblood. Eventually James stopped being such a fool and went after her, and she ended up going with him." Sirius's voice dropped. "She was very special, brilliant and beautiful, no tolerance for fools. I think we were all a little in love with her." He smiled and seemed to be looking past the three of them. "James was good for her, though. Helped her move outside the box, changed things up for her. Brought a little chaos into her life."

At this the older man stood and paced a few steps, clearly caught up in the recollection. "They married right off, you know, right out of school. James was so bloody happy, he was like a whole different man. Lily was just radiant... You weren't long after. James was the last living Potter, and everyone thought they'd do great things together, what with Lily being so well-known as a prodigy in school. Neither of them was afraid of Voldemort; they were working with the rest of us even after they went under the _Fidelius_."

Harry had both girls next to him; all three were hanging on Sirius's story, hearing the raw emotion pent up in the man for all those years of captivity.

"When they were killed, that night... when I knew it was Peter... I think I lost my mind. I would've been happier to have died with them. Sometimes, many times," his face looked very thin, his eyes dark, "I wished that I had, thought that I had. There was nothing for me. The time I spent in Azkaban... it wasn't enough to make up for how much I failed." He shook his head to dispel the memory. "You were there, Harry, and everything went wrong. Your parents lived and fought and died to defend you, to make a place for you. They loved you, both of them. No matter what mistakes the rest of us have made, _they_ did their absolute best for you. I'm proud and happy every day because I can see just what a fine son they have now.  And now you have this damned prophecy hanging over your head, and the tournament, and Voldemort… I don’t want to screw this up.  I want to help you.”

He choked up and had to look away again. Fleur and Hermione held Harry wordlessly for a moment before he stood up and walked over to embrace Sirius. The older man wept a little as they held each other. Fleur and Hermione stood by, feeling the overwhelming relief flooding from their husband and crying themselves.

It was a while before any of them spoke again.

"I found out a few other things, Sirius. Dumbledore is the one who decided to send me to the Dursleys. He halted my inheritance, made sure I wasn't placed with a wizarding family. He says he did it for a reason." Harry's voice was bitter. “Between that and holding out on telling me the prophecy, I don't trust him the way I did. I can't."

"Nor should you, love," Fleur said comfortingly, giving him a small kiss. "Ze 'eadmaster is a powerful wizard, but 'e is not infallible. We will always be 'ere with you."

"We love you, Harry, both of us do. We'll get through this together. You know you can count on your godfather too." Hermione smiled at Sirius.

Sirius looked very troubled by this revelation. "I believe you, and we definitely need to keep Dumbledore as an ally if possible, but if he really trusts Snape I don't know how much I can trust him either.  Albus has a whole lot of clout, and he really was one of the few people Voldemort was afraid of dueling, but he doesn't keep too many people in his confidence. I _hope_ Snape isn't one of them." He paused for a moment and frowned. "I'll tell Remus all of this too, once we get in touch with him. He owes Dumbledore a lot, though, and he might be harder to convince than me." Now Sirius looked a little happier. "But try not to worry. I'll do everything I can to help you and the girls, Harry. I'll teach you everything I can. One day, after we clear up this death sentence, I'd be proud to stand out in the open and call you my godson."

"I know, Sirius. Thanks. I'd never have made it without you, all of you." He looked around at his godfather and his two wives, and felt very much at home, hopeful about the future. "I'll try to deal with Snape for now by just... keeping an eye on him. We'll focus on getting through this tournament. I'll rely on the people I know I can trust."

HPHPHPHP

The trio left Sirius with promises of communication coming soon, along with food to be delivered by Dobby. They had stayed as late as possible without arousing any suspicion, and were making their way back to the castle when Harry was hailed by Viktor Krum, who was jogging over to them from the area of the Black Lake.

"Harry, I vould like to speak with you." He looked significantly at Hermione and Fleur. "Alone."

" _Am I being paranoid...?_ "

" _Darling, I am almost sure 'e is not trying to 'urt you._ " Fleur noted.

" _I agree. Viktor's not given any indication that he's a bad guy really, but be careful anyway. We have the bond._ " Hermione agreed.

" _Be careful, 'Arry,_ " Fleur echoed.

" _I will. I really hope we're right about him_ ," Harry sent. "All right, Viktor. Hermione, Fleur, I'll see you in a bit." He waited for the girls to bid Viktor good evening. "So?"

"Over here," the older wizard started walking toward the forest. "Don't vant to be overheard."

" _He's leading me to the forest. Looks grumpy, but that's all_."

" _He does seem rather out-of-sorts,_ " the brown-haired witch commented.

Once they arrived in the shadow of the trees, Viktor stopped and turned to regard the green-eyed wizard. "I have seen my headmaster acting very odd lately." Krum's frown deepened. "Very odd. He has been speaking with one of your professors, the Slytherin potions professor, often. Although it is not often spoken of, I know that Karkaroff vas once a death eater. He has been very focused on his arm, the one where the dark mark vould likely be."

Harry's eyes widened. Snape was chatting with another death eater? One who was interested in his old magical mark? He thought back to the awful dream over the summer, the one he was hard-pressed to think of as just a dream.

Voldemort. Could his waxing strength have something to do with the Durmstrang headmaster's arm?

" _Ze dark mark was known to be more than just a simple charm, 'Arry. It was tied to 'im._ "

" _She's right Harry. This could be important._ "

"Viktor," Harry began with a serious expression, "Thanks. I mean it. I don't know what this means exactly, but things have been happening this year that, well, they look pretty dangerous."

"The World Cup attack?" Krum asked. At Harry's nod, he continued. "And you say someone else entered your name in the Goblet of Fire, yes?"

"It wasn't me. Moody thinks it might be someone out to kill me."

"It could be. Vell, you've done a great job so far," the Bulgarian boy cracked a smile. "Your flying in the first task was really incredible."

Harry could not but feel proud at the seeker's praise. "Thanks, I mean, I saw you at the World Cup you know. I'd never seen anything like it."

"Thanks. Nice to have a compliment from someone like you," Krum replied.

"Someone like-"

Before Harry could finish, both wizards heard a crashing sound from the brush, followed by a wavering voice.

"Weatherby, yes, Weatherby, deliver this missive to the minister at once. At once, I say. Critical business. Absolutely critical."

Standing on the outskirts of the forest, clad in a torn set of robes and covered with lacerations, Barty Crouch was addressing a tree with a completely calm expression. Harry and Viktor looked at each other, then quickly walked over to him.

"Mr. Crouch?" Harry asked tentatively.

"This is the man from your ministry, yes?" Viktor asked.

"Right, he's supposed to be sick." Harry answered. " _Fleur, Hermione, Barty Crouch is here. He looks like he's crazed; talking to a tree right now._ "

" _Crouch? Here? Get him to the infirmary, Harry! We'll get Dumbledore._ "

" _Something is very wrong here. He looks like he's been tortured or something._ "

" _Be safe, love. We are going to get the 'eadmaster now._ "

"Viktor, if you don't mind I am going to call my house elf to take us right by the infirmary, all right?"

"Your elf? You haff an elf? And he can apparate at a school?" He looked astonished.

"Please keep it quiet for me," Harry asked sincerely. Krum waited a moment before nodding.

"Sure. But you must tell me more about this later."

Harry winced. "I'll try." He turned to look worriedly at Crouch, who was now staring at him with a desperate expression.

"Dumbledore! I need to get to Dumbledore! You're not one of _his_ are you? Are you?"

"Dobby!" Harry called in alarm. When the little elf appeared, Harry quickly explained the situation and ordered Crouch to be brought to the infirmary first. Dobby disappeared with the older wizard, then popped back to take Harry.

"He'll be right back for you," Harry said to the older boy.

A few moments later, Harry and Viktor were escorting a confused Barty Crouch into the Hospital Wing.

As the old man babbled, Harry became more and more concerned. Ministry officials did not go mad on a regular basis. With any luck, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey would be able to find out what had happened to Crouch; they might even get a clue as to what he was doing in Hogwarts earlier in the year.

Somehow, Harry suspected that he was not going to like the answers.


	11. Chapter 11

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Eleven

AN: Thanks once again for all the follows, favorites, and thoughtful reviews for my story. My apologies for the pace of the updates; work keeps me busy, and I only have so much energy at the end of the day to write and edit. That being said, I am still having a great time writing this; with any luck the next chapter will not be long in coming.

HPHPHPHP

" **Murder, like talent, seems occasionally to run in families." - George Henry Lewes, _Physiology of Common Life_**

It was dark outside the castle, and the magical lights in the hallway by Professor Dumbledore's office made the silent gargoyle look more intimidating than usual. Hermione was nearing the point of cursing as she unsuccessfully tried a fourth sweets-related password.

"Yelling Yams!" She tried desperately. The gargoyle remained unmoved.

"Darling, it may be best to just ask ze elves for 'elp 'ere," her silvery-haired companion commented as she put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder.

"That's a good idea, Fleur," the brown-haired witch noted. "I think I was in too much of a rush to get here. Sorry." She looked penitent.

Fleur shook her head. “Don't be upset. I did not think of it either."

"Think of what, Mrs. Potter?" A kindly voice called out from down the hall. Albus Dumbledore strode over to the two girls and offered a polite nod, his eyes twinkling. "Did you need to speak with me?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Is something wrong with Harry?"

"No Professor, or rather, I don't think so," Hermione began. "He was speaking with Viktor, Viktor Krum, and they found Mr. Crouch injured. Harry said he seemed to be... not in his right mind." She bit her lip.

"'Arry is taking 'im to the infirmary now, 'eadmaster," Fleur noted as she watched the older wizard's reaction with care.

Dumbledore frowned only slightly, then gestured down the hallway. "Let us get to him, then," he said seriously. "I have not seen Barty in person for some time now."

"' _Arry, love, we are coming with Dumbledore. Are you all right?_ "

" _Fine, Fleur. Madam Pomfrey's looking over Crouch now._ "

"Sir," Hermione said haltingly as they began walking, "Don't you think we ought to contact the aurors?"

The headmaster froze for a moment, then kept walking. "Yes, Ms... Mrs. Potter. I will do so once I see his condition."

Fleur glanced significantly at her young wife, who returned the look.

" _Good thing you told 'im._ "

" _I wonder if he would have done it at all?_ "

" _Eventually, yes. But the old man likes to do things in 'is own time._ "

None of them spoke as they made their way to the hospital wing.

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Madam Pomfrey silently cast a spell over the sleeping form of Barty Crouch with a scowl on her face. Nearby, Harry and Viktor stood against the wall, having already been warned in no uncertain terms to stay out of her way.

The witch had shooed both boys away and examined the raving Crouch for a few minutes before finally dosing him with a dreamless sleep potion. Even under the potion's influence, Crouch did not appear to be sleeping peacefully.

Harry suspected that it was only a matter of time before the territorial Madam Pomfrey exiled them from the hospital wing; fortunately, she was distracted by the arrival of Dumbledore, Fleur, and Hermione.

"Albus," she turned to regard the headmaster with a very serious expression. "Barty Crouch shows significant damage from the _Cruciatus_ curse. He's also malnourished and has a number of superficial wounds; it seems likely he was confined somewhere at least for a time, and may have escaped." She clenched her wand tightly. "What do you think is going on here?"

Dumbledore glanced around the room to see expectant expressions on the faces of Harry and the girls. He sighed. "Fawkes," he said softly, and the phoenix appeared instantly by his side. He withdrew a piece of parchment and penned a brief missive while leaning against one of the tables. "Please, old friend, take this to Amelia Bones." He turned to the mediwitch as his familiar flamed out of the room with a parting trill. "Thank you, Poppy. I'm sure the aurors will be here shortly to investigate. Did he say anything before you had him sleep?"

"Well," she said looking around the room. Dumbledore nodded for her to continue. "He was babbling about You-Know-Who, and his son, and he was desperate to find you, Albus."

The old wizard's eyebrows rose, but his expression did not reflect alarm. Fleur and Hermione, meanwhile, moved to stand by Harry.

"Where was he, and what else did you hear him say?" Dumbledore asked as he turned to the group of students.

Harry answered first. "By the forest, sir. He wandered out of the woods and was talking to a tree, thinking it was Percy Weasley. Then he asked for you by name." Harry paused and swallowed. "He asked if I were 'one of his,' when he asked for you. I don't think he meant you by that."

"I agree, Headmaster Dumbledore," Viktor assented with a nod. "The man vas out of his mind, but he seemed lucid when he asked for you."

No one offered to speculate about who Crouch had been referring to.

" _Do you think Voldemort kidnapped him?_ "

" _I don't know Hermione. Maybe it was Wormtail acting on his orders. Percy filled in for Crouch at the Yule Ball, remember Fleur?_ "

" _Yes, I do. 'E said that Crouch was ill. 'As 'e been gone zis whole time, three months?_ "

" _Why... why not just kill him? Do you think that Percy knew?_ " Harry's anxiety came through to the girls.

" _I don't know, Harry._ " Hermione was doubtful. " _He's sort of a ponce, but I don't see him working for the Dark Lord_."

" _But 'e did 'ave ze rat for all those years, yes?_ "

" _I hope he's innocent._ " Harry sent.

Viktor, meanwhile, was watching the trio with interest while Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore looked over Crouch and conversed in low tones. "Can you three speak with each other, silently?"

Hermione looked to Harry and Fleur, then nodded at him.

"Amazing!" His eyes widened. "Congratulations again. That proves the bond is real more than anything."

Hermione blushed a little. "Try not to tell anyone though, please Viktor?" She entreated.

He nodded. "No problem. I understand the need for privacy." He shook his head. "Still, amazing."

"Ah," Dumbledore said a few moments later. "Amelia has just crossed the wards." He looked over at the four students. "I suspect she will want to question you two gentlemen, so please be patient."

At that moment Winky appeared at Hermione's side, her ears low and her eyes wide. "Mistress! Is it true then? My old master..." The little elf's voice trailed off as she saw Barty Crouch on the bed nearby, and she started to tear up. "Oh master..."

"Winky," Hermione knelt down to look the elf in the eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Mistress, Winky is sorry! Winky is being a bad elf and is not answering your questions! Winky will do it now, we promise!"

Hermione looked at her bondmates. " _Not now, all right? We'll ask once we're back in our quarters._ "

" _Sure, Hermione. Hopefully Winky will calm down._ "

Fleur bent down to look at the elf as well. "Winky," she said softly, "We are not angry with you. We will talk later this evening, in our rooms, yes?"

Winky sniffled, but looked better. "Thank you Mistress Fleurses and Mistress Hermiones, Winky will be ready when you call. I is sorry."

With that, the elf disapparated. Dumbledore quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

A few minutes went by, punctuated by Crouch's occasional restless movement in the bed, before an older witch with a monocle and a very determined expression entered the room, flanked by two aurors in department robes. One, a tall gentleman, seemed to be looking all around the room at once. The other, a younger woman with pink hair, focused her eyes back through the door they came through before facing forward again. All of them looked serious.

"Albus." The woman with the monocle stated flatly. "This is Barty Crouch, then?"

"Hello Amelia," Dumbledore replied politely. "Yes, it seems he was found by two students this evening wandering the edge of the Forbidden Forest." When the witch motioned him to go on, Dumbledore inclined his head toward the four students, all of whom were silent. "Durmstrang's Viktor Krum and our own Harry Potter found Barty."

The witch looked at them with an even stare and asked, "What is Crouch's condition, Madam Pomfrey?"

"He's been under the _Cruciatus_ curse more than once, and he's been starved. I suspect he was held by someone for some time. He looks as though he may have escaped on his own, though." The mediwitch replied.

Amelia Bones continued to stare at the students for a moment before speaking. "Albus, can we borrow two rooms to ask questions here?"

"Certainly, Amelia. I trust there will be no veritaserum involved?"

Bones looked at him with a flash of irritation. "Don't tell me the law, Albus. Questions, not potions, until it is warranted." She turned to look at the Aurors. "Shack, Tonks, follow Dumbledore to these rooms. Shack, take Mr. Krum to one. Tonks, you've got Potter." She sighed. "Any idea when Crouch will be able to answer anything?"

"At least a few hours. He was out of his mind when found; he needs some rest before I wake him." Pomfrey looked hesitant even to allow that.

"Albus, Cornelius is on his way already, along with Scrimgeour and a few other aurors for guard duty. Please make sure they are accommodated."

"I'll notify the professors immediately, Amelia." With that, he summoned a phoenix patronus and offered a few soft instructions before it flew away. "Minerva will be here shortly." He turned to Fleur and Hermione. "Would you girls mind waiting here for a few minutes?"

"Of course, Professor," Hermione answered with a glance at Fleur. "We'll wait for Harry."

"Very well. We'll use Poppy's private wards here then." The mediwitch nodded an absent agreement as she watched over her patient, and Dumbledore led the party toward the side of the hospital wing.

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" _What do you think Winky's going to tell us?_ " Harry asked over the bond as he waited quietly in his room with the pink-haired auror.

" _What 'appened at the World Cup, 'opefully,_ " Fleur sent.

" _Maybe Crouch even had something to do with the Goblet, if Voldemort's had some control over him this year._ " Hermione added.

" _Professor McGonagall just came in, along with ze minister and a few other people 'Arry._ "

Harry perked up and looked at the door at that.

"Nervous there Mr. Potter?" The auror asked. Harry shook his head. "Well, good then, but don't worry. Madam Bones is one scary witch, but she's fair. Just tell her the business and then you can all leave." The auror smiled kindly.

Harry smiled in return. "Thanks. You were Tonks, right?" The witch nodded. At that moment the door opened and Amelia Bones stepped inside. After a glance at Tonks, she turned to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, I have a few questions for you. You are not accused of anything, and we are just establishing what may have happened to Mr. Crouch. Do you feel that you need a legal counsel here? You are an adult wizard at this time, and may request one."

" _Do I need to? She seems fair._ " Harry sent.

" _Might be best not to, just to speed things along. If she asks something fishy, you can always ask then._ " Hermione replied.

" _If you feel concerned at any point, just ask then 'Arry._ " Fleur sent reassuringly.

"No Madam Bones, I'm fine," he answered her calmly. "I'd rather just get this over with."

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Fleur and Hermione saw Viktor Krum exit the room with the tall auror after Amelia Bones went in to see Harry. "Done, Viktor?" Fleur asked.

"Yes," he said gruffly. The auror walked over to stand guard in the hallway. "Nothing unexpected." He turned to look at the girls. "I vill want to talk to Harry again about these elves. Very interesting." He said. "For now, I am going." He inclined his head respectfully to both girls. "Good evening."

"Good night, Viktor," Hermione said. Fleur echoed her, and then he was gone. Both girls watched as Cornelius Fudge looked worriedly at the ward where Crouch had been taken when the infirmary had started to fill up. He had nervously nodded at the two of them as he had entered earlier.

"What the devil's going on, Dumbledore? Weasley's son has been saying he was ill." Cornelius Fudge had hat in hand and looked a little disheveled.

"I think it is likely that young Percy was sent information to keep things running while Barty was absent. I am confident he was doing nothing intentionally wrong." Dumbledore said soothingly.

"Well he'd damned well better not have been. Rufus has two aurors going to pick him up for questioning now." The minister mopped his brow and took a shallow breath. "What a bloody mess, and the tournament not even over yet."

"Amelia will have some answers for us soon, once she is finished questioning Harry."

"Harry?" The minister perked up. "Harry Potter _and_ Viktor Krum found Crouch?"

"That's right, Cornelius." Dumbledore looked around distractedly. "Just a moment, I need to see about something," he said and strode over to where Severus Snape had just entered the room.

"Severus, I take it everyone else has been notified?"

"Yes, headmaster," Snape answered quickly. "Filch is keeping students away from the infirmary for now, and Professor McGonagall should be advising the staff."

"Good." His eyes flicked to Fleur and Hermione, who appeared to be waiting patiently. "Have you seen Alastor?"

"No, not today." Snape frowned.

"If you do, please let him know that I would like his opinion on a few matters."

"Certainly, headmaster." With that, Snape turned and left the infirmary.

Dumbledore sighed and turned to walk back to the agitated minister. It was going to be a very long night.

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It had been quite a nice day, really. Percy had gone in for a little extra work in the morning, just enough to guarantee a very well-organized day on Monday. He had no new letters from Mr. Crouch, so he was largely just keeping things in order. It was worrisome and hectic, but not unmanageable.

It was pleasing, really. He was sure he could run the Department of International Magical Cooperation himself, if he were called to do so.

The day was made even better by a dinner date with Penelope Clearwater. Their relationship had remained strong despite entering the working world, and Percy had been hoping to quietly save enough money to buy her a ring in the next year.

That plan had been somewhat altered since Harry Potter's announcement that he would be disbursing the proceeds from the sale of the basilisk to the victims of the Chamber of Secrets incident; rather than having to divert some of his income to his family as he had been doing formerly, he was free to keep it for himself. In addition, Penelope had become a rather wealthy young witch (or would, once the money from the sales came in from Gringotts) and Percy found himself in a very great hurry to make sure he impressed her.

He was not _extremely_ worried that she would pick some random wizard over him, but he was determined to make sure it did not happen.

Sitting down to dinner with her, Percy could not help but smile. Penelope had been apprenticing with a magical artificer when the news of Harry's offer came through, and money had been very tight. Now, she was feeling optimistic about the future, and her optimism showed. She looked lovely, and for a moment Percy realized what a very lucky wizard he was to be dating her.

They had hardly managed to order, however, before Percy felt a hand fall heavily on his shoulder and he saw extreme worry on the face of his girlfriend.

"Percy Weasley? We're with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. You're going to need to come with us."

Percy's eyes widened and his stomach dropped.

This could be bad. Very bad indeed.

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"Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Potter. You've been very forthcoming." Amelia Bones said as she led Harry out of the room and back into the infirmary proper. "If we need anything further, I will let you know."

"Of course, Madam Bones," Harry said with a little nervousness. The questioning hadn't been bad exactly, just tiring, but the older witch was very intense. He was glad he didn't have to lie to her.

It would probably have been a losing proposition.

"Harry, everything all right?" Dumbledore asked. His normally companionable tone seemed a bit forced to the young wizard.

"Fine, professor." Before Harry could add anything else, Cornelius Fudge had appeared and was already shaking his hand.

"Harry my boy, good to see you! Fine things you've been up to, very fine! Congratulations on your marriage by the way, very fine news indeed!"

Harry was feeling a little ill as Fudge continued to shake his hand. Over the bond, he could feel Fleur and Hermione's amusement.

"Yes, well, thank you sir," Harry said, pulling free of the minister's grip. "Have you met Fleur and Hermione yet?"

" _Harry, really._ " Hermione's expression from across the room communicated her displeasure.

" _It would be best, both of you. Be polite, then we can be on our way._ "

Hermione and Fleur walked over and Harry introduced them. "Minister, meet Fleur Potter and Hermione Potter. Ladies, this is Minister Cornelius Fudge."

Fudge was excessively polite to both girls as they shook hands and spoke for a few moments. Hermione, with years of experience tolerating adults, carried off a convincing show of interest. Fleur was a natural; Fudge was charmed.

Finally Dumbledore rescued them and broke into the conversation as Fudge was apologizing for the retracted _Prophet_ article. "Well Cornelius, I'm sure these young people have places to be. Harry, I will let you know what happens with Mr. Crouch." The headmaster looked Harry in the eye seriously. Harry nodded in return, acknowledging the message.

" _Looks like we learn nothing here, then._ "

" _Zen let's go to get some tea and speak with Winky._ "

" _I hope she's feeling all right,_ " Hermione fretted.

They made their goodbyes and left the infirmary. Amelia Bones was speaking with one of the other aurors who had entered as they were leaving; she gave them a silent nod of acknowledgement.

Out in the hallway, the auror called Shack waved to the trio as they departed. They offered a polite good evening his way.

"What a day," Harry said tiredly after they had passed by the grumbling form of Argus Filch. "I wish we could hold off on this chat with Winky."

"Well," Hermione said, chewing her lip absently, "I think we should at least speak to her tonight if nothing else. She seemed really worried."

"I know you wanted a little more time with us alone, love," the French witch commented sympathetically. "But there is no 'urry." She offered a brilliant smile and leaned in to kiss him quickly.

Hermione was smiling as well now, as she watched the two of them. "Feeling more awake after that kiss, Harry?" She asked impishly.

"Maybe," he said as he leaned toward her. "Let's see."

Fleur was giggling a little as they approached Gryffindor tower. "You're both a little more awake now, yes?" She stuck her tongue out at the two of them. " _I can see a little of what you're trying not to send, you know._ "

" _Hardly just us!_ " Hermione sent back in a flurry of embarrassment. " _You're busy thinking all sorts of things over there!_ "

" _But I am not trying to 'ide it,_ " she replied cheekily.

Harry just looked at the two of them and chuckled. It was hard to feel upset for very long with both girls beside him. Even the prospect of Winky's upcoming confession was not dampening his mood anymore.

Just as they rounded to the bottom of the main stairwell of the tower, a brittle voice called out behind them.

"Potter, hold on a minute." Alastor Moody said as he walked forward, his false leg ringing against the stone and his false eye spinning madly. He had a small pouch at his side next to his flask, and he looked exhausted.

The trio stopped and turned. "Yes Professor? What do you need?" Hermione asked for them.

"Potter," Moody said grumpily, "I need you to come out with me to where you found Crouch. I'm looking for a possible magical trace, and I need to know precisely where you were."

Harry looked at the girls with a sigh. " _I won't be too long, I'm sure._ "

"We'll be in our rooms, love," Fleur said. She gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

"We'll hold dinner for you," Hermione said with a meaningful glare at Moody. " _Really, like we haven't had enough to do today._ "

" _I'll be fine, Hermione. I'll tell you when I head back._ "

"Okay Professor, let's go then." Harry waved at the girls and fell in step behind Moody, who started walking toward the entryway of the castle.

Fleur looked at Hermione and shrugged. "Either 'e will find some trace of an apparition or something similar, or 'e will not. It should not take 'Arry too long."

"Let's go upstairs. We can at least have some tea ready for him when he gets back."

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Although some of the Gryffindors were already back from dinner, only one approached Hermione and Fleur.

"Do you two know what's going on downstairs? People are saying there are aurors in Hogwarts." Ginny Weasley noted.

" _Want to let her in for now?_ " Hermione sent.

" _Of course,_ " Fleur replied.

"Come on in here, then," Hermione replied to the younger girl and gestured at the portrait of the wizards playing go.

Once she had opened the Potter quarters with a whispered password and they were alone with Ginny, Hermione sat down at the table and removed her shoes. Fleur did likewise. "Harry and Viktor Krum found Barty Crouch, from the ministry, near the Forbidden Forest. The aurors are investigating what happened to him."

Ginny looked alarmed. "Is Harry-"

"'Arry is fine, Ginny," Fleur said softly. "Zey just found the man, nothing more."

"That's good at least," the redhead looked relieved. "Where is Harry, anyway?"

"Professor Moody wanted his help with something," Hermione said as she made a dismissive gesture. "He'll be coming back soon."

Ginny made a silent 'oh' and nodded her head.

Hermione leaned back and rubbed her right temple with a pained expression. Seeing this, Fleur stood up and went over to her, then began rubbing the brunette's shoulders. Hermione closed her eyes and made an appreciative noise.

" _Thanks Fleur. I'll do you next, all right?_ "

" _Still dwelling on what you were thinking about in ze 'allway?_ " Fleur sent mirthfully.

Both girls laughed.

"Well, maybe I should go then," Ginny said somewhat uncomfortably, noticing the mood of the two girls.

"No, please stay, Ginny," Fleur said with a genuine note of apology in her voice. "I am sorry, ze conversation through ze bond can be very off-putting for people."

"Sorry Ginny," Hermione looked contrite.

The younger girl waved her hands emphatically. "No, no, I'm sorry, I mean this is your room after all. I just don't want to, umm, get in the way." She blushed a little and looked down at the surface of the table.

Hermione blushed and Fleur had to laugh again.

"At least stay for tea, all right? We need to see Winky anyway. Winky!" Hermione called out hurriedly for the elf, who appeared, wringing her hands.

"Oh Mistress Hermiones!" The elf began without preamble. "Winky is sorry! Winky should have told you before! Winky's old family, Mr. Crouch, his son..." The elf began to cry. Dobby appeared next to her and looked nervous.

After Winky had sobbed for a few moments, Hermione spoke. "We know, Winky," she said softly, trying to be as comforting as possible. "He worked for Voldemort, and he died in Azkaban, isn't that right? We would never be angry with you for something like-"

"NO!" The elf shouted, startling all three girls as well as Dobby. Winky kept crying. "No, Mistresses, Master Barty Junior did not die."

Fleur and Hermione wore identical expressions of shock. "What do you mean, Winky?" Fleur asked haltingly.

The little elf looked miserable as she spoke. "He, Master Crouch that is, he took Mrs. Crouch to that awful terrible jail because the Mistress was dying, and she begged Master to save the little Master. She begged him and cried and carried on, and Master Crouch finally did it. He came back home with the little Master."

Here the elf trembled and had a haunted look on her face. "But the little Master was very angry, very angry. He cursed Master and shouted, and broke things, and the Master used dark, awful magic to hide him away and make him stop." Winky looked ashamed. "Winky had to help, Mistresses. Winky had to! She was ordered to! But then..."

Fleur took Hermione's hand in her own; both were trembling, wondering whether the little elf's story could get any worse. As it was, they were going to have to find Madam Bones immediately once they had all the details. Across the table, Ginny sat silent and horrified, appalled that someone like Mr. Crouch would do such a terrible thing.

Winky's voice fell to a whisper as she continued, trembling. "But then he escaped, because he wanted to go to the dark one again."

"He's alive, and helping the Dark Lord?" Hermione could not keep the astonishment from her voice. Winky nodded, fearful of another dismissal. Dobby stood worriedly at her side.

"It wasn't your fault, Winky," Fleur comforted the elf after a moment of recovery. "And we are not angry with you. We will try to tell ze aurors what 'as 'appened, but you will stay with us, no matter what."

Hermione offered a smile as well. "She's right, Winky. Thank you for telling us. I know this was very hard for you, and we appreciate it." " _Fleur, we have got to tell Madam Bones immediately! He might have had something to do with Mr. Crouch, or even with the Goblet! Harry, are you almost done with Mad-Eye?_ "

There was a long silence, and no answer to her question came through the bond.

"' _Arry? My love, are you all right?_ "

Still there was no reply. Fleur and Hermione quickly turned to look at one another.

"It, it's like when he's asleep..." Hermione said fearfully, her voice betraying anxiety. "I, I didn't feel anything, did you Fleur?"

The older girl shook her head, but intense worry was on her face.

Harry was still silent.

"What is it, what's happening?" Ginny asked, upset already by Winky's story.

"The map. We'll know where he is if we use the map." Hermione said, ignoring Ginny. She stood quickly, then ran over to Harry's trunk and opened it to withdraw the Marauder's Map. "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," she intoned before tapping the parchment. She scanned quickly over the edge of the grounds where she knew Viktor and Harry had been, and where Moody and Harry must be now.

It was empty. No names showed near the forest, or between the forest and the castle.

The sense of panic rose within her, but Hermione ruthlessly suppressed it. "Okay, Moody. We need to find Moody. He must be here somewhere." Her eyes stung as they blazed over the map from story to story, room to room, combing through the dots. The infirmary was awash in unfamiliar names, but Harry was not there.

"Dumbledore's still in the infirmary," she noted tightly, just to have something to say. Over at the table, Fleur was standing with a look of fear. Ginny, seeing the older witch's expression, was fearful as well.

"What, what is it? Please, tell me!" She asked desperately.

Finally Hermione's frantic search caught the name Alastor Moody on the map. "Moody's in his office!" She said triumphantly, but then stopped.

"But Harry isn't there." She whispered. Her heart felt like it was about to break out of her chest, and Fleur ran over to hold her.

"'Ermione, my love, don't panic. We need to focus now. Moody was ze last person to see 'im, yes?" Hermione nodded mutely. Ginny stood up from the table and said nothing. Her eyes were wide with worry.

"Dobby," Fleur said sharply. The little elf looked like he was about to cry. "Dobby, go immediately to Dumbledore and tell 'im that 'Arry Potter is missing. Take 'im to ze 'allway by Professor Moody's office to meet us." Fleur spoke with forced calm in her voice, but she felt none in her heart.

She felt physically sick, in fact. Watching as Hermione began to hyperventilate, she tried to soothe the girl over their bond. " _We will find 'im, 'Ermione. Come, let's go._ " "Winky," she called, "take us to ze 'allway near Professor Moody's office now." She turned to the now panicked redhead. "Ginny," she pleaded, "Please, say nothing to anyone yet."

Then Winky took their hands, and Ginny Weasley was alone in the Potter quarters.

She clenched her fists and began to cry.

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Albus Dumbledore appeared holding Dobby's hand in the quiet corridor outside Alastor Moody's office with a furrow in his brow. He had made very hasty excuses to the people in the infirmary before departing, much to the consternation of the aurors and Amelia Bones. The obvious fear in the house-elf's eyes, along with his whispered message from Fleur Potter, brought Dumbledore close to panic.

_Surely_ , he thought, _surely not..._

He spied young Harry's two wives holding tightly to each others' hands a few meters away. "Young ladies, is it true that Harry is not responding over your bond?" When they shook their heads, Albus tried very hard not to show fear. "What happened?"

The girls explained what had happened in turns, about Moody's appearance and his story, and Winky's confession; Dumbledore's expression grew darker each moment. "The map shows Alastor in this office, then?" He queried.

"Yes sir," Hermione answered with a tight voice. "Can't we please go in now?" She looked at the headmaster with wide eyes.

The old wizard nodded. "Let me go first, please." They assented, and he walked over to the door. No one answered his knock, and after casting a detection charm he unlocked it.

The room was dark, and silent, and empty. Further magical efforts showed a few artifacts in the room, but no occupants.

"Mrs. Potter," Dumbledore said as Hermione and Fleur entered, "Please show me where he is on this map of yours."

Hermione nodded and the map zoomed to the appropriate room, showing a basic floor plan. They followed their own dots until they were immediately adjacent to the one labeled 'Alastor Moody.' In the room, they were standing next to a magically enchanted trunk.

"Please, stand back," Dumbledore said, holding his fear at bay as reports of missing potions ingredients surfaced in his mind. _Surely not... It couldn't be..._

At a spell from his wand, the trunk opened, revealing a series of locks which fell open one after another. Dumbledore looked in each compartment, finding nothing out of the ordinary. In the last was a set of stairs just wide enough to descend. He warned the girls to stay back, and walked in.

There was a small room in the magical trunk, bare of any decoration. The air was musty and unpleasant. In the center of the room, tied to a metal chair, was the pale form of Alastor Moody, half his hair gone from his head.

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"Do you mean to tell me," Amelia Bones demanded with a shaking voice, "That Barty Crouch Junior or whoever it was has been impersonating Alastor Moody since AUGUST and you had NO IDEA?"

When Dumbledore said nothing, the older witch slammed her fist down on the heavy desk hard enough to knock over his silver chimes. "GOD DAMN IT ALBUS, TALK!"

"Yes, Amelia, it looks that way," the headmaster replied without raising his eyes. "I am as capable of making mistakes as anyone else. I should note," he said as he looked up from his desk, "that no one else in this castle saw through his act either. Barty's son was always a gifted boy-"

"Gifted? Albus, I am not sure I believe that this was a one-man operation." The now furious witch stepped back from the desk and looked appraisingly at the wizard. "I will be taking Severus Snape back to the ministry under auror guard for questioning. I'm waiting on the Bulgarian ministry to get back to me with a confirmation that we may do the same with Karkaroff."

"Amelia, please," Dumbledore asked as he stood up. "Severus has my complete confidence. I know for a fact that he himself thought Harry Potter was the one stealing from his stores to brew polyjuice potion-"

"Well he doesn't have mine, Albus." She said, cutting him off with a gesture. "Snape was You-Know-Who's creature then, and he may well be now. This is not up for debate." Bones eyed him carefully through her monocle. "You're awfully defensive about this, Albus. I think you should be more worried about Harry Potter and those two distraught young wives of his than about a self-confessed death eater."

He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Amelia, I am trying to be as honest as I can-"

She made a sharp laugh. "Somehow I doubt that. You wanted to hide the telepathy over their bond from me until those witches overruled you. They even implied you weren't going to call in the DMLE immediately when Crouch was found. How long were you planning to wait exactly, Albus? Ten minutes? An hour? A day? Would you even have called us after Potter disappeared if we weren't already here?"

"Amelia, really. You know that I have only the best intentions-"

"Damn it Albus, your intentions are not my business!" She was shouting now. "The law is the law, and you are not in charge of its execution!" She took a deep breath. "We're done here. I'll keep you apprised of what happens in your official capacities once we know more. If you discover _anything_ new, or if those witches have something to add, tell me immediately."

At this Amelia Bones removed her monocle and brushed it idly against the fabric of her robe as she sighed. "I know you're hiding things from me, Albus. Don't try to deny it. But you can't do everything yourself. You know Charles Delacour will be coming here tomorrow most likely, and he's not just Fleur's father, he's the bloody Minister of Foreign Affairs for France!" She fixed the headmaster with a withering stare. "Don't believe for a second he's going to take any of your garbage, Albus. This is his son-in-law and death eaters and maybe Voldemort all wrapped up in one."

With that, she turned and left the office without another word spoken.

Dumbledore sat back down, hearing the faint voice of Amelia Bones as she conversed with the auror at the foot of his private stairwell. The old wizard removed his glasses and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes.

Revelations had been plentiful and unwelcome in the hours since the students had returned from Hogsmeade. After Moody had been freed from his prison, he had immediately pointed to Barty Crouch Junior as the person who had attacked him before the school term began.

Acting against Madam Pomfrey's wishes, Bones had woken the senior Crouch to demand answers under veritaserum, which he had provided. They confirmed the tale told by Winky the house elf in every detail. In addition, Crouch's deposition indicated that his son definitely believed that he was working directly for the Dark Lord, and that the Dark Lord was alive again in some capacity. Apparently his son had indeed held him captive outside the castle grounds while masquerading as Alastor Moody, and had used the _Imperious_ curse to force the elder Crouch to send directives to Percy Weasley.

Bones had not been convinced that Voldemort was alive again, but it seemed to everyone undeniable that Barty Crouch Junior definitely thought he was. Before he was sent off to St. Mungo's, Moody had chimed in with his assertion that he believed Crouch Junior was likely not just telling tales.

Dumbledore, of course, knew Voldemort was very close to being alive again. Severus Snape's dark mark had gotten increasingly visible in the past months, and both of Harry's wives had related the story of Harry's dream over the summer to him that very evening.

And now he had Harry. For the first time in years, Albus Dumbledore was starting to despair.

It was very little consolation to know that Tom Riddle's plans had undoubtedly been derailed by the escape of Barty Crouch; Dumbledore was almost certain that he would capitalize on whatever he was planning in short order. As for Harry Potter, the old wizard was forced to admit to himself that there was likely no way to track him down. It was unthinkable that Riddle was hiding anywhere visible and unwarded; Dumbledore had already checked a few likely locations that very evening and come up with nothing. If they chose to keep Harry unconscious, he would have no way to tell his bondmates where he was.

Fortunately, the number of people who knew about their telepathic abilities was limited. Amelia Bones had assured them that she would not be sharing the secret.

Still, it was a long shot that Harry would be able to provide any useful information.

If he was even still alive.

Dumbledore summoned a house-elf and requested some tea. It was going to be a long night.

HPHPHPHP

Hermione Potter, née Granger, shivered as she stared, unblinking, at a page of her Arithmancy textbook. It was nearing midnight. Around her, at the table in her quarters, sat a few of her friends. They had special dispensation from Professors McGonagall and Flitwick to be in there after curfew, given the circumstances. It was an unspoken assumption that Hermione and Fleur would not be doing anything school-related tomorrow.

Hermione was grateful for the company, but neither she nor Fleur were being particularly talkative. She felt like they had talked enough already that night.

After they had brought the real Alastor Moody down to the infirmary, Hermione had ended up shouting at the headmaster. Fleur had restrained her, but she was herself none too pleased with the old man. It was Fleur who had stood and demanded that Madam Bones be informed about their telepathic abilities, as well as all the other parts of the story they had managed to put together. Dumbledore had not looked very happy, but Amelia Bones had been furious.

Fleur and Hermione had left for their own quarters under the escort of Professor McGonagall only after hearing all the information gleaned from Mr. Crouch and the rescued Moody. As family of the kidnapping victim, Fleur had told Madam Bones, they expected to be kept well informed.

She had not neglected to mention that she was going to be writing a letter to her father as soon as she was back in her room.

Both of them had agreed not to contact Sirius until they had more information. Hermione was afraid that he would fly off the handle. As far as Rita Skeeter and the press was concerned, they were planning to let Amelia Bones handle it.

Hermione turned away from her book, which she was hardly able to read anyway, and touched Fleur's shoulder. The silvery-blonde haired witch was sitting right next to her, and immediately sent her a mental nudge.

" _Do you want to rest, darling?_ " Fleur's words came to her with warmth.

" _No, not yet. If he was stunned, he might wake up soon._ "

They both hoped he would be allowed to regain consciousness. If he was not, then they might well never see him again.

Across the table, Neville, Luna, and Ginny were engaged in a quiet conversation. Ron was pretending to work on an essay, but seemed to be no more productive than Hermione was. Everyone looked tired.

" _We should let them rest, Fleur._ "

The French girl smiled. " _Of course, love. Then maybe you can rest as well._ "

"Everyone," Fleur said, and the table went quiet. "I think that I need to rest for now. You probably do too, since you must go to class in ze morning. Thank you, very much, for being 'ere for us."

"We'll tell you tomorrow if we learn anything new," Hermione added. "I promise."

Ron was the first to stand after he quickly gathered his parchment and quill. "I, well, I'm sure everything will be all right. Harry's tough. I'm sure he'll be all right." The boy looked away and sniffed. "Anyway, good night."

With that, Ron fairly ran out of the room. Ginny sighed. "If you need anything, please come and wake me." She tried to smile for their benefit. "I'll be happy to talk."

Luna and Neville also took their cue to leave.

"I'll make sure Ron's all right," Neville said softly. "Good luck."

"Harry is a very strong person." Luna said with a calm look at Fleur and Hermione. "He'll be all right."

After a few more moments, all three had said good night and left. A moment later, Fleur and Hermione were in each others' arms.

"Oh I want to believe Luna's right, Fleur," Hermione said in a hoarse voice. "I just want him to wake up, at least, and talk to us."

Fleur hugged the smaller girl tightly and tried not to cry. "'Arry is strong, love. We can believe in 'im."

Hermione returned the embrace and rubbed her eyes. "He'll be fine. He's faced terrible things before; I know he's fine." She sniffled. "He would want me to be brave."

"You are, love." Fleur stroked her hair softly.

Hermione turned to her wife with a small smile. "You too, you know. Thank you for taking on Dumbledore and Bones tonight. I would have crumbled."

"As would I, if I 'ad been alone," Fleur replied. "'Ermione," she continued, "You should rest. I will wake you in a few hours and then rest myself, but that way when 'Arry wakes one of us will be 'ere waiting."

The brown haired girl leaned back and nodded slowly. "All right, but are you sure you don't want to rest first?"

"You first. I am all right."

"Just wake me if you hear anything, no matter what. And make sure you wake me in a few hours no matter what so you can get some sleep too." The younger witch looked at her pointedly.

"I will, 'Ermione. Now go bathe, then rest." Fleur said, then offered another hug. "I love you."

"I love you too." Hermione tried not to tear up. "He'll be all right."

"I know."

HPHPHPHP

The tea was cold.

Fleur sighed and drank it anyway, enjoying the taste of the tepid honey at the bottom. She thought of asking Winky or Dobby for a fresh cup, but she knew that they, too, were worried and needed their rest.

She could not rest, not yet. Harry was not yet awake, and Hermione needed sleep more than she did. The poor young girl had tried all evening not to lean too hard on Fleur; her independence was admirable, but it took its toll.

Fleur tried to remain hopeful, but it was difficult in the stillness and quiet of the late hours. It was already closing in on three o'clock in the morning. The young girl set her teacup back on the saucer and tried to make sure her hand did not shake too much. She returned to her reading, trying to concentrate and stay focused and awake.

_And for all this, nature is never spent;_

_There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;_

_And though the last lights off the black West went_

_Oh, morning, at the brown brink Eastward, springs-_

_Because the Holy Ghost over the bent_

_World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings._

The image heartened her. Though the verse was not her native language, she found it to be quite beautiful. It didn't hurt that the author was perpetually stuck in the dark hour of the soul himself. It was a kind of solidarity, and it helped.

Fleur felt an ache behind her eyes and winced, putting the book down on the table before her. It might be about time to wake Hermione in any case; it would be hard to stay awake much longer herself.

As she was gathering the determination to wake her bondmate, she felt a presence pushing in her mind.

" _Hermione! Fleur! Are you all right?_ "

Fleur immediately cried out as tears ran down her cheeks. Her burst of emotion flew over the bond to Harry. " _Love, we're fine, in our rooms at 'Ogwarts. Are you all right? Are you hurt?_ "

" _I'm not injured, but I am tied up and my wand is gone. I think I'm in a cellar. Somebody must have stunned me and then Moody._ "

"Th _at was not Alastor Moody, love. It was Mr. Crouch's son, ze death eater; he is alive_."

Fleur offered him a quick overview of what they had learned over the course of the evening. Organizing her thoughts for Harry's benefit made her feel a great deal more awake. Harry was astonished to hear what had happened.

" _Love, I am going to wake 'Ermione now._ "

" _Please do. Have you slept at all, Fleur?_ "

" _Of course not!_ " Her indignation was palpable. " _We chose to take turns waiting for you to wake up._ "

Harry was silent a moment before he responded. " _Thank you, Fleur. You know I love both of you._ "

The French witch felt herself grow warm at the emotion she felt. " _We love you too, 'Arry. Now let me get 'Ermione_."

After Fleur gently shook Hermione awake, the younger girl's eyes were cloudy for a moment before they leapt open in happiness. " _Harry! Are you safe? Are you hurt? Do you know where you are? Oh we're so worried-_ "

Both girls felt a pained chuckle over the bond. " _Hermione, I'm all right for now. I'm in a dark room, a cellar probably, tied up and without my wand, but I'm not hurt._ "

" _Can you hear anything, or see anything, as a clue about where you are?_ " Hermione asked.

" _No, nothing really. Looks like there are no windows anywhere and it's totally silent._ "

Hermione stood and began pacing the room. " _There must be a way to... Harry! Call for Dobby!_ "

There was a moment of silence, then Harry responded. " _Looks like they silenced me. Really though, I don't know if that would even work._ "

" _We will think of something, love. Now we need to talk to ze 'eadmaster_."

Fleur and Hermione nodded at each other.

"Dobby, Winky!" Hermione called, and the elves appeared, looking worried. "Harry is awake and he is not hurt, but we don't know where he is. Might one of you tell Professor Dumbledore for us?"

"Yes Miss Hermiones! Dobby will do it now!" With a crack, the little elf was gone.

Fleur turned to Hermione. "I do not think I can sleep quite yet. I would like to talk with 'Arry."

The other girl nodded. "Winky, could you bring us something light to eat?"

The elf bobbed her head. "Of course, Mistress. Winky will be right back. I is glad that Harry Potter is well."

After Winky had gone, Dobby popped back in. "The headmaster says to please let him know if Harry has any information. He is being contacting the ministry now."

"Okay, Dobby. Thanks." " _Harry, don't worry. We will definitely think of something. Dumbledore and Madam Bones from the ministry are working on it._ "

" _I'll keep my eyes open here. If anything happens, I'll let you know as soon as I can._ "

HPHPHPHP

As it turned out, very little happened over the course of the early morning. Despite Hermione and Fleur's worries, the worst things Harry seemed to be dealing with were anxiety and boredom. Eventually Harry managed to convince Fleur to get some rest; Hermione agreed that they would be sleeping in shifts while they worked to figure out what was going on.

Harry himself fell asleep for a few hours and woke in the early afternoon. Immediately, he noticed that Hermione and Fleur were both angry.

" _What happened?_ " He asked.

" _We've just left the headmaster's office, and it's awful! They've got nothing, Harry!_ " Hermione's desperation came over the bond with force. " _They can't seem to find any leads to where you are._ "

" _Love, they 'ad no luck with ze apparition trace. My father will be 'ere this evening, but I do not know what he can do to help_."

Both girls fell silent, and Harry flexed his arms tiredly against his restraints. " _I'm sure you'll think of something. I'm sorry I can't see or hear anything useful in here; they've pretty well blocked off whatever information could be useful to me._ "

He tried not to sound too hopeless, but he was sure that it did not sound encouraging to Fleur and Hermione. In fact, with half a day gone already and no progress made in finding him, Harry was not feeling particularly encouraged either.

Back in their room in Gryffindor tower, the two Mrs. Potters were feeling somewhat despondent after this exchange. They couldn't lie to Harry through the bond about his situation, even if they wanted to, and there was no good news forthcoming. Harry did not know where he was and had no means of finding out; Dumbledore and the DMLE did not seem to have anything else to go on.

Suddenly Hermione sat bolt upright.

"Fleur, what sort of wards are standard for a property? For privacy, I mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well," the older witch replied, eyeing her bondmate curiously, "there are several that one might use. If ze place is under _Fidelius_ already, they probably don't need to 'ave much apart from proximity warnings and maybe some wards to conceal items immediately beyond ze territory under _Fidelius_."

Hermione's eyes were brighter now. "So there is no general charm that prevents incoming information, right? Such a ward would not be used, and the _Fidelius_ does not preclude one viewing or listening to what is immediately outside it?"

"I believe so, yes," Fleur said, wondering where Hermione was going with this. "But 'Arry cannot see or hear anything useful."

"No, he can't." She grinned. "Fleur, do know what the Global Positioning System is?"

"Non, I do not." The older girl looked interested.

"It's a muggle invention for determining location. Basically it uses multiple signals from orbiting satellites to determine your location on the surface of the Earth. It works on the principle of isolation, with a few pieces of information combining to make a precise estimate of where you are. Now Harry doesn't have a GPS, but I bet he could tell the time, or the barometric pressure, or any of a million things that we can compare to observed or known conditions all over the place! We'll be able to narrow it down tremendously with that. It might not be much, but if we can get a really exact time, we might be able to get his longitude. Are there spells for finding out exactly where the sun is overhead, or how far above sea level you are, or anything like that?"

Fleur's eyes widened. "There must be. At least for many such things. I do not know 'ow accurate ze _Tempus_ charm is, but there must be a way to increase it if needed." After a moment, she frowned. "But 'Arry ‘as no wand, and 'e cannot speak. 'Ow can 'e cast these spells?"

"I'm willing to bet he can do it." Hermione said determinedly. “None of these are extremely powerful charms or anything, and Harry’s good under pressure, you know; he’s quite a powerful wizard. I think we should try it."

Fleur looked at the young witch and felt her confidence over the bond. She smiled. "Then we need to do some research, love."

" _Hey, you're a little quiet over there. Something good happen?_ "

Hermione grinned. " _Maybe, Harry. Fleur and I need to do some research. You may be able to use magic to determine some information about where you are if we can come up with the right spells._ "

" _Without a wand? Silently?_ "

" _Darling, 'Ermione believes you can do eet. I think she is right._ "

Harry thought a moment before replying. " _All right, I'll give it a shot. Anything I should do for now?_ "

" _For now, try to cast a basic_ Tempus _charm. Just focus and keep trying. Rest when you need to, and tell us if anything changes._ "

" _I will. If I'm quiet for a while, I'll probably just be concentrating then._ "

"' _Arry, remember that casting magic without a wand is unfocused and very difficult. Don't overtire yourself._ "

Harry smiled at the note of concern. " _I'll be careful, Fleur. Good luck, you two, and rest when you need to._ "

Hermione looked at Fleur and nodded. Even kidnapped, bound, and without his wand, Harry took them at their word and worried about them, instead of himself. "'He really is something special, Fleur," the younger girl said.

"So are you, 'Ermione," Fleur replied, "Now let's get to work. We likely 'ave to modify or even create a spell for 'Arry, and that will take us some time to work out."

Resolved, the girls headed off to the library to begin their work.

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Three figures sat drinking tea in the headmaster' office. None of them were smiling.

"We have nothing new at this time." Amelia Bones stated, frustration evident in her voice.

"Regrettably, I must say the same here," Dumbledore replied. "It has been almost a full day now, and although Harry is alive, he is not able to identify where he is."

"We do have people searching. If they decide to move Mr. Potter, then there is a decent chance that we might intercept them." She removed her monocle and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "If they do not..."

The silence was heavy for a long moment.

"Have either of you spoken to young Ms. Granger or-" Minerva McGonagall shook her head. "That is, Hermione or Fleur recently?"

"Not since this morning, no," Amelia said.

"Indeed, they advised us that they would let us know promptly if anything changed. Is there something else, Minerva?" Dumbledore looked curious.

"The two young ladies left their quarters in Gryffindor Tower sometime shortly after noon. They have been in the library ever since then, according to Madam Pince."

The old wizard's brow furrowed. "Do you think they are hiding something?"

McGonagall fixed him with a withering stare. "Really Albus, I can't believe you sometimes. I'm sure they are working to assist Mr. Potter, and when they want our help, they will ask for it."

"Minerva, my apologies, I only want to help them."

"Do you think those two girls might be on to something we've missed, Minerva?" Bones asked with a thoughtful expression.

"Young Ms., rather Hermione, is an extremely clever girl. From what I have discussed with Olympe, Fleur is a very talented young witch herself. They may also be employing the bond itself in whatever they are doing. They are only students, but they are very original thinkers. I would not put it past them, Amelia."

Madam Bones leaned back in her chair and looked reflective. "Do you think you can approach them to see if we can offer any assistance?"

"I'll see what I can do," McGonagall nodded. "Albus?" She looked questioningly at the headmaster.

"Please tell them that we will be happy to offer whatever assistance they require." He said tiredly. "We should all be working together."

"Very well, then. Amelia, Professor, I will see to it presently." So saying, the head of Gryffindor House left the office, already wondering what the two girls were working on.

HPHPHPHP

" _Fleur, can you check whether this derivation matches Kellus Kortir's arithmantic projection from the second volume? I'm not sure I have the scaling right._ " Hermione did not look up from her work as she continued to examine the formulae she was crafting with a critical eye.

" _Oui, it seems accurate. Keep in mind that it is going to require some focus to maintain the interpreter. By the way, the pressure spell base seems to need modification. It was designed for water, and lacks ze degree of accuracy we are looking for. I know that I can conjure specific elements; I am trying to check my mercury against ze real thing._ " At her end of the table, the older witch was busy conjuring small quantities of mercury suspended in the air, an expression of extreme concentration on her face.

" _Let's hope Harry can do it._ "

Without looking up, both girls nodded. Conjuration was a very advanced subject, and not usually attempted wandlessly.  Fortunately conjuration was typically much less structured than other wand work, and therefore Harry might have a better chance at using it.

Madam Pince looked over the two girls quietly. She had earlier shooed a few inquisitive students away, but finally had to relocate the two witches to a private area usually reserved for study groups. They had been at work for hours now, and apart from a few requests to Madam Pince, they were completely silent. The table before them was covered in a varied assortment of reference material covering many subjects: school textbooks in both English and French, muggle meteorology, force and electromagnetic conjuration, elemental conjuration, and Kortir's two-volume treatise on arithmancy and static evocation, which Pince had had to get for them from the restricted section.

They had been given a free pass from the Gryffindor Head for the library, and it seemed they intended to use it.

" _I did it!_ " Harry exclaimed excitedly over their bond." _Fleur, Hermione, I can definitely cast and hold the_ Tempus _and levitation charms for as long as I'm concentrating._ " Harry's sending sounded tired to both girls, but he seemed happy nevertheless.

" _Both of them?_ " Hermione sent, astonished.

" _You... you can cast both charms now, and at the same time?_ " Fleur echoed her disbelief.

" _Well, I started with the_ Tempus _like you said, but it wasn't too hard. I've been working on doing both at once for about an hour now, but it takes a lot of concentration._ "

Fleur looked wide-eyed at Hermione.

" _That, that's wonderful Harry! We're working over here, and we're getting closer. What do you think of this for a basic display?_ " Hermione sent an image of what she hoped would result from the system she was developing.

" _That looks good. Are you sure I can really cast that?_ "

" _If you can cast those spells wandlessly, 'Arry, I believe you can. Just make sure to rest for a while, yes?_ " Fleur sent her concern over the bond.

" _I will. I know I'm tired, but it's keeping me occupied. It’s really nothing like using a wand.  I’ll be careful. I'm just regular tired, not magically tired. Believe me, after last year I know the difference._ "

Hermione bit her lip absently, recalling that same memory. " _All right. Just be mindful._ "

" _You too. Make sure to get something to eat. I know you've been working for hours now._ "

" _We will, darling. I will make sure she stops soon._ " Fleur sent.

"I can't believe he was able to do it..." Hermione said softly. "I mean, I had faith that he could do it eventually, but it's only been a few hours..."

Fleur shook her head. "Most witches and wizards never learn to cast wandlessly. To do this in only a day, and in these circumstances..."

A smile tugged at the corner of Hermione's mouth. "You know, I remember mentioning to you that back in our first year, I told Harry he was a great wizard. I don't think I told you when it happened."

Fleur smiled as Hermione shared the memory of the potions trial.

"You are both more than you are willing to give yourselves credit for." She took the younger girl's hand and kissed it softly. "But that is something I can 'elp with."

Hermione smiled, then frowned and looked down at her parchment. "We'll get him back, won't we?"

Fleur took Hermione's hand in her own. "We will."

"Irma, do you mind if I bother them?" McGonagall called quietly from behind the librarian.

"Minerva, no, of course not." Pince turned to look at the professor. "I was just checking in on them myself."

"How are they?"

"They've been working for hours, but they rarely speak." The librarian looked curious. "Is it the bond?"

McGonagall nodded. "Yes. They can speak with young Mr. Potter as well, if he is conscious."

Both witches were silent for a moment.

"I'd better speak with them now. Thank you for checking on them, Irma."

"Of course."

McGonagall coughed lightly to indicate her presence, unwilling to startle the girls; both Fleur and Hermione looked up from their work to greet her.

"Good evening, Professor."

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall. Do you 'ave news from Madam Bones?" Fleur looked hopeful.

McGonagall tried not to frown. "No my dear, I'm afraid not. I just wanted to see whether you two were doing well, and whether you might need anything." She watched them carefully for signs of fatigue. "I know you have been working here all day. Could I offer any assistance?"

The girls looked at one another briefly, then turned back to McGonagall.

"Professor," Hermione began, "please sit down and we can go over what we're trying to do."

The older witch sat, and Hermione began her presentation.

"It started when I realized that Harry is likely under a _Fidelius_ or other charm, but that he can still observe and relate things in his environment apart from the location where he is being held. Basically, we're putting together a few charms to get data that Harry can gather and we can compare to readings we can take, so we can narrow down where he is," Herrmione's voice grew more excited as she spoke. "Fleur's working on something to read barometric pressure right now; we're also planning on elevation and an application of the _Tempus_ charm, and I'm creating a spell projection that should allow a fixed display of some of the information as the charms are cast." She looked at her Head of House with a glimmer of pride. "I got the idea for that from the way _Tempus_ and other charms show information in letters in the air before you."

Fleur could not help but smile at her bondmate's comprehensive, enthusiastic description. " _You're very impressive, love_."

" _You're doing half the work anyway._ "

"Hermione," McGonagall said with surprise in her voice, "you are creating a new spell for this purpose? And Fleur, you are crafting a working barometer with conjuration and transfiguration?"

Both girls nodded.

"Amazing," the older witch said softly. "Well, I shall be happy to assist you with this. Hermione, I will get Professors Vector and Flitwick to assist as well." Then she looked a little apprehensive as she spoke. "But girls, do you really think Mr. Potter can carry all this out? He does not even have a wand, correct?" She was loathe to distress them further, but to her surprise they seemed optimistic.

"Right now, 'Arry is casting both the _Tempus_ charm and levitating items silently, without 'is wand." Fleur said with evident pride.

"We know he can do it, Professor." Hermione added earnestly.

McGonagall was astonished by the news of Harry Potter's spellwork; she saw the confidence both girls were displaying, then looked down at the growing set of neatly organized notes they were building. It was obvious they had a plan, one not ever really executed in this fashion in the wizarding world before. With the professors' help, they might be able to do it. The question was, would Harry Potter be able to match their efforts? And would they have enough time?

HPHPHPHP

The air smelled unpleasant and musty in the empty room where Harry Potter was being kept. It was uncomfortable, certainly, being tied up for so long. Harry was hungry, and thirsty, and anxious. All of that, though, was excellent motivation for him to distract himself with the spellwork that Hermione and Fleur suggested. He knew that he could cast silently if he worked at it enough; his performance at the first task was clear evidence of that. The wandless casting, though, had seemed truly intimidating. Knowing it was really his best hope, Harry had set to work with a will.

It had paid off. He was casting without a wand, but the whole process was almost nothing like using his phoenix feather wand.  It wasn’t just the focus or the added strength he felt, but the magic itself was just totally formless and unstructured.  He could only imagine how impossible it would be if he had not learned with a wand already.  

He was a little surprised with how well the mental discipline came to him at first, how easy it was to turn off the distractions and simply focus. Then he remembered why: the Dursleys.

All those years of being isolated, physically and socially, had forced him inward. It had its negative consequences of course, but it was also experience he could rely on. He had lived through it, dealt with it, and grown up. The Harry Potter with three and a half years of the magical world under his belt was a stronger person than the Harry Potter who had been locked up in the cupboard under the stairs. That cupboard and all his memories still informed him though; they were part of him.

If he had been taken in the beginning of the year, if Barty Crouch Junior had brought him to Riddle then, he might have crumbled. He was a different person now. He had two girls who loved him, and whom he loved in return. He had a place to go home to, people waiting for him.

They believed he could do it. Harry just had to keep believing it himself.

He was resting for a few moments between simple castings when he heard shuffling at the door by the stairs. The door opened and a pale werelight flew in, illuminating the room and causing him to squint.

As his eyes adjusted, Harry saw Peter Pettigrew walking down the stairs, a tray in one hand and his wand in the other.

Harry took the time to study the man as Peter walked toward him. The wizard, he knew, was only in his mid-thirties, but he looked almost as bad as Sirius had after his escape from Azkaban. Pettigrew's eyes were cold as they fell on Harry, and he felt his bonds uncoil after the older man spoke.

"Harry, here's your dinner." The tray floated to the ground, revealing a meager meal with a glass of water. At Harry's questioning look, the Marauder grinned. "You'll stay silenced for now, young Harry. We don't need you yelling and crying. And feeding you? Why, you're wondering? It's my master, of course. He wants to make sure you're healthy, awake and alive and all that. But don't worry, Harry," Pettigrew said with a sneer as he turned to walk back toward the stairs, "You'll be dead by his hand the day after tomorrow. The Dark Lord will rise once more!"

The werelight followed Wormtail's chuckles out the doorway and Harry was left alone with his dinner in the dark.

He fought down nausea and a feeling of burning in his scar as he heard the traitor's words echo through his head.

_The day after tomorrow. The Dark Lord will rise once more!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Harry Potter and the Scīenra Cwēna**

Chapter Twelve

 

AN: Well, this was rather a long time coming.  No excuses, but I must apologize.  Leaving it on a cliffhanger for a year is really quite a terrible thing to do.  Thank you to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story; without your support, I likely would never have continued it.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

**“Many die too late, and some die too early. Yet strange soundeth the precept: ‘Die at the right time!’” - Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra**

 

“Based on what Fleur Potter reported, the Unspeakables think it must be the Ritual of Asclepius.  It’s the only thing that matches up with this time of year and the specific date tomorrow.  That still doesn’t mean You-Know-Who is alive, just that Crouch Junior thinks he is.”  Amelia Bones sat in her chair and waited for a reaction.  

 

“And what does Minister Fudge think about this, Madam Bones?”  Charles Delacour’s voice was sharp.  Amelia was expecting the question, but she was not looking forward to answering it.  

 

“He believes that the abduction was carried out by Crouch Junior working with Sirius Black, both of them mad after their time in Azkaban.”  She closed her eyes in frustration.  “Mad enough to think their master is still alive.”

 

Charles Delacour said nothing.  Amelia was positive he was infuriated.  He was just very good at hiding it.  She couldn’t blame him; if this meeting were about Susan’s husband she would be hard-pressed to look as calm as he did.

 

“This is unfortunate news, but not unexpected I’m afraid.  Cornelius has been most resistant to any notion that he might be wrong about things,” Albus Dumbledore commented from behind his desk.  

 

“Speaking of things the minister is wrong about, Albus, why did you not bring Harry Potter’s story about Sirius Black to me before?  I heard nothing about the matter despite the fact that it happened months ago.  Did you discourage him from contacting us?”  

 

The French minister’s eyes narrowed, but still he remained silent.  

 

“It was an unfortunate situation, Amelia, as I’m sure you can understand.  We were fortunate that young Harry escaped from the ordeal unharmed.  With Peter Pettigrew gone, we had nothing to present to prove Sirius’ innocence, and everything to lose if you forced Harry to cooperate in locating him so long as Cornelius kept up the kill on sight order.”  The headmaster smiled softly.  “Sending him to your department might have brought Sirius into greater danger.”

 

“Do you honestly think I would lie to Harry Potter if I asked for his cooperation?  Or that I would deny Sirius Black a fair hearing with testimony under veritaserum?  You cannot really believe that, Albus.”  The witch struggled to retain her temper.  

 

Dumbledore spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty.  “Of course I trust you, Amelia, but there are many in the ministry and indeed in your own department who might not be so deserving of that trust.”

 

“That might have been useful for Harry Potter to know.”  She replied through clenched teeth.  

 

“I did not think it prudent, particularly under the very emotional circumstances.  Now, as for the matter of Cornelius and the issue of the ritual.”  The old man leaned forward.  “I think this would be best kept to ourselves for now.  There is no need to unduly trouble the young Mrs. Potters with this.”

 

Amelia Bones was about to reply, but she was cut off by Charles Delacour’s soft voice.  

 

“I think that is about enough, headmaster.  I will be advising my daughter and her wife about everything we have discussed as soon as I leave this office.  Is that clear?”  He asked, his eyes never moving from the older wizard.  

 

“Ah, yes, Charles, of course.  It is your daughter we are discussing.”  Dumbledore replied with a strained smile.

 

“Good.”  The French wizard stood and offered a polite nod to Amelia Bones.  “Madam Bones, thank you once more for your time.  I will let you know immediately if either of the girls learns anything new.”  He turned to offer Dumbledore a curt nod before leaving the office.  

 

“Well Albus,” Bones said as she stood to take her leave, “I’m sure we’ll meet again very soon.”  

 

After she had departed as well, Dumbledore sat quietly in his office, staring at the wall.  The portraits were silent.  After a few minutes alone, he picked up quill and parchment and began writing a letter to Sirius Black.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

The old house had a sterile sort of cleanliness about it on the inhabited floors, the product of too many _scourgify_ spells and not enough care.  This was not lost on Peter Pettigrew as he walked away from his master’s quarters, away from the monstrous thing that had taken a child’s body.  The house was smooth and dry as Nagini’s dark scales, but just as cold and uncaring.

 

It was not a house of death, exactly.  Just a house with no life.  

 

Pettigrew had just finished his hourly care of Lord Voldemort and now, in the kitchen, he found himself under the disapproving gaze of Barty Crouch Junior.  The Death Eater’s partial success in bringing Harry Potter into their custody was not especially rewarded by the Dark Lord.  In fact, since the ritual itself had to be altered to accommodate the new time frame, the Dark Lord was in a foul mood with regard to Crouch.  

 

Consequently, Pettigrew’s even-handed treatment came off looking like favoritism.  Crouch was not happy about it.  

 

“Hey Peter.  Only a little more than a day to go now, eh?  The master will be back.  The others will be back.  Everything’s going to be back like it was then, eh?”  

 

Pettigrew turned to look at the other man.  Crouch was better when he pretended to be someone else, he reflected.  Here, as himself, the wizard was wild-eyed and twitchy.  It made Peter uncomfortable.  

 

“Sure, Barty.  Tomorrow.”  He replied noncommittally.  

 

Crouch frowned.  “Is it all ready?  The soil’s ready, the boy’s locked up, the time’s going to be right.  You’ve gotten everything else ready, right?”

 

Peter repressed a shudder at the other man’s feverish tone.  “Yeah.  It’s all ready.”

 

“That boy’s going to squirm.  I can’t wait.  He was such a little prick at school.  Acting like he didn’t care what anyone thought.  Prick.”  

 

Peter grunted in reply.  There was no point worrying about Potter.  He was going to go the way of James and Lily shortly.  Sure, Wormtail felt a bit of grim pleasure at the boy’s impending death, but he really didn’t feel that much.  It was just one more thing to be done before he could take his place at the side of the ascendant Lord Voldemort.  He smiled calmly, listening to Crouch’s prattle.  Tomorrow would get things started again.  

 

He was looking forward to it.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

“Dobby.  Dobby!”

 

Nothing, just like the last twenty times he had tried.  Harry sighed in resignation.  He had figured it wouldn’t work, but with nothing to do while the girls continued to work on their new spells he had finally mastered a silent _finite_ shortly after noon.  He couldn’t disenchant the ropes ( _finite_ had its limits after all) but he had been able to dispel the silencing charm.  

 

Even though he had expected it, Harry was crushed that Dobby could not hear his call.  It wasn’t that surprising though; he was being held captive by Voldemort of all people.  Harry didn’t expect him to miss much.  

 

“ _Well, still no luck with Dobby I’m afraid_.”  He reported to Fleur and Hermione.  

 

“ _It’s all right, Harry.  We’re getting close here.  Don’t lose heart._ ”  Hermione replied.  

 

“ _Try to rest for now, love._ ”  Fleur advised over the bond.  

 

Harry sighed again.  He didn’t think he’d be getting any sleep, but it was worth a shot.  

 

There was nothing else to do but wait.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

“You know I really can’t believe that the _tempus_ charm already worked with celestial observation and centralized time reference.  Why on earth were we never taught that?  I mean three centuries of spellbooks and we were practically at the very end before the arithmantic derivation of the spell was--” 

 

The brown-haired witch’s rambling was interrupted by a voice from across the library.  “What the bloody hell is that?  You’ve got a window on your face, Hermione.”

 

“Mr. Weasley, will you _lower your voice_?”  Madam Pince’s harsh whisper brought an immediate silence from the redhead.  

 

Silent or no, Ron Weasley was even more perplexed when Hermione turned to face him and he saw lettering across the strange window.  “Really Hermione, what is that thing?  I could see it all the way across the library.”

 

At this Hermione frowned, then turned to look over at the silvery-blonde haired witch sharing the table.  “Fleur, you know I think Ron might be on to something.  Harry can’t have this thing flying around his face; they’ll be sure to know something’s up.”

 

The older girl looked contemplative for a moment, then brightened.  “Ah, ‘Ermione, but zere is an easy way to render ze construct visible only to the caster.  If you check in Lasch-”

 

“Lasch-Merleau!  Of course!  _Synaesthesia and Internal Projection_ , the section on sensory charms.  Thank you Fleur!  I think it’s right over here, and I seem to recall it being in G-32 on the table…”  Hermione fell off into muttering, completely disregarding both Fleur and Ron.  

 

Fleur glanced at her wife and took in the wild hair and circles under her eyes.  Hermione’s enthusiasm was being carried away by her exhaustion.  Looking over at the young Weasley, she offered an explanation.  “Apologies, Ronald.  We are both very tired.  I promise to explain better in a little while.”

 

Ron nodded and watched his friend worriedly.  

 

A few moments later Hermione seemed to have found what she wanted and turned furiously toward recasting her spell.  

 

The little construct faded away, leaving her face tired, but still triumphant. 

 

“It works!  It really works, Fleur!  With your spellwork we’re there!  Now we need to get Harry to learn it, and cast it, and then compare with ours, and probably cross-reference with relevant muggle mapping data.  We’re almost there!”  “ _Harry, it works!  I’ll need to start working with you on how to cast it in a moment.  Just let me finish up my notes._ ”

 

“ _What about Madam Bones?  You’ll need her help with the muggle information at least, and probably with getting around the country.  You two need to be safe._ ”  Harry replied immediately.  

 

“ _We will go see her now, ‘Arry.  Don’t worry.  We will be safe._ ”

 

“Excuse me?  I hate to interrupt, but there’s something you might want to know.”  Fleur and Hermione were startled to see Daphne Greengrass standing next to Ron.  

 

“Oh, sorry Daphne.  We got a little carried away.”  Hermione commented as she turned her attention back to the notes Fleur had just passed across the table.  “What is it?”

 

The girl lowered her voice slightly.  “Draco Malfoy made a trip to the owlery this morning.  I’m pretty sure he’s reporting what you two are doing to his father.”

 

“I do not think that ‘e has anything of value to tell, ‘Ermione,” Fleur commented immediately.  

 

“That git.  Keeping tabs for his dad, just like always.”  Ron grumbled.  

 

“Hopefully you’re right, Fleur.  Anyway, we need to see Madam Bones as quickly as possible.”  Hermione pulled her notes into a neat pile and began packing her bag.  “Thanks, Daphne.  I appreciate it.  Will you let us know if anything else happens?”

 

“Sure, Hermione.”  The Slytherin offered a tight smile.  “Good luck.”

 

Fleur called for Winky, and advised her to take a brief note directly to Amelia Bones, and another to her father.  

 

“ _Dumbledore?_ ”  Hermione questioned.  

 

“ _We’ll need his office at least,_ ” Fleur assented, before sending Winky away with her three messages.  “All right, to the headmaster’s office then?”

 

The younger witch nodded and glanced down at her notes with intense concentration.  “ _OK Harry, the first thing you want to do is make sure you’re not silenced.  The verbal component here is going to be helpful apart from the conjuration._ ”

 

“ _I’m ready, Hermione.  I won’t let you two down._ ”

 

“ _I know, Harry. I know.  Now, here is where we begin._ ”

 

HPHPHPHP

 

“Oh, I’m sorry for not explaining Mr. Delacour, it’s a heads-up display construct.  Fleur and I invented it this morning.”  

 

Hermione’s offhand remark brought a smile to the French wizard’s face, a rarity that particular day.  

 

“I see, Hermione.  Excellent work, both of you.”  He offered a smile to his daughter as well.  “Now, can you explain in a bit more detail?”

 

“ _Fleur, can you continue with Harry while I explain the plan?  You’re really a much better teacher than I am._ ”

 

“ _You’re both great,_ ” Harry sent with sincerity.  

 

“ _I’ll help ‘Arry.  You explain this so we can get started._ ”

 

The brown-haired witch took a deep breath.  In Dumbledore’s office were presently the headmaster, Professor McGonagall, Mr. Delacour, Amelia Bones, and the two aurors she had met before, Shacklebolt and Tonks, plus herself and Fleur.  They were all waiting to hear her plan for locating Harry Potter, something every experienced witch and wizard in the room had failed to do.  

 

Hermione felt very much fifteen years old while they all stared at her, until she began to speak.  “Well, the heads-up display can be rendered visible only to the caster.  Its purpose is to allow the coherent organization of data gathered by various spells that generate information on one’s surroundings, such as the time.  That is mostly for convenience however.  We should be able to provide Harry’s longitude, accurate to a second at least, in just a little while.”  She paused as the the audience looked perplexed.  “That will be the first bit of information.  We found out that wizards didn’t even _have_ a spell for latitude, which isn’t too surprising since we had to basically deconstruct the _tempus_ charm to make one for longitude.  Fortunately we managed and now we have a way to get a fairly solid coordinate approximation of Harry’s location.  From there we can use meteorological data for barometric pressure and temperature to try to narrow things down; we’ll need Madam Bones to send someone to get mapping information from the muggle agency in question.”

 

Leaving off, Hermione looked around.  Tonks had her hand in the air.  “Yes, Auror Tonks?”  the young witch said.  

 

“Yeah, so you have Harry’s approximate location, and you need someone to get current maps, and then you two are going to bounce around England until your little displays are close enough to his, that about right?”  

 

“Right.  The closer we get, the closer the match for pressure and temperature should be.  There is no wizarding spell for elevation as far as I can tell, and we didn’t have time to make one.”  The witch replied smartly.  

 

Charles Delacour could not help it: his mouth was hanging open a little in amazement.  Looking around, he could see he was not the only one.  _One day, and she and Fleur have created all of this?_

 

“Hermione, all of this depends on Harry being able to cast these spells, correct?”  He asked.

 

“Yes, Mr. Delacour, but Fleur’s working with him now and I’ll be helping as soon as we’re done here.  I’m sure he can do it.”  The girl’s fierce determination was evident to all the adults in the room.  

 

“Brilliant work, you two.  I’ll send Tonks out to get the map information you need.  Shack, grab about a dozen men, six for each girl.  You’re going to be apparating them around the country pretty soon.”  The head of the DMLE stood and turned to the French gentleman.  “Minister Delacour, we will do everything we can to assist your daughter and daughter-in-law.”  

 

Charles stood and shook her hand.  “Thank you, Madam Bones.  I know we’ll get young Harry back.”

 

Across the room, behind his desk, Albus Dumbledore remained silent.  _Perhaps I’ve underestimated them all.  If they manage to succeed…_   “A very excellent plan, Ms., rather, Mrs. Potter.  I will be happy to help in any way I can.”  

 

Hermione nodded, and Amelia Bones nodded as well, if a bit more warily.  

 

“Now Auror Tonks, you’ll want to go to the UK Ordnance Survey office…”

 

HPHPHPHP

 

“ _Hey!  I think I’ve got it!_ ”

 

Charles Delacour watched, fascinated, as his eldest daughter exhibited a panoply of emotions in complete silence.  She had been busily communicating with Harry Potter since the meeting in Dumbledore’s office, and had not spoken very much since.  

 

Hermione Potter had left to help organize the search with Amelia Bones and the aurors, leaving Fleur to explain the new spell mechanics to their husband.  

 

The Frenchman was cautiously hopeful.  The spells themselves were brilliant, but learning to cast them wandless would not be easy.  Still, Harry at least had the chance to work on them for now.  

 

Unaware of her father’s thoughts, Fleur concentrated on Harry.  “ _Excellent, love!  Tell me what it looks like._ ”  The heads-up display construct needed to be executed perfectly in order to retain and review the information from the other spells that fed into it.  

 

“ _Hmm, well, it’s… blue, and it moves when I turn my head…_ ”  

 

The young veela was about to ask for more specific information when suddenly something _pushed_ into her vision.  

 

She was seeing through Harry’s eyes.  Her jaw dropped in astonishment.  “ _‘Arry, how are you doing zis?  I can see what you’re seeing._ ”  And, she noted to herself, it appeared that the construct was indeed perfect.  

 

“ _Well, I wanted you to see it, so I suppose you could since you wanted too as well then?_ ”

 

“ _Amazing!_ ”  Hermione chimed in.  “ _I was listening in to you two, but I’m able to see it too Harry.  This is excellent!  Your spellwork is perfect._ ”  

 

Fleur felt Harry relax a bit through the bond.  “ _Great.  I think I need a minute to rest before we continue though.  Don’t want to pass out._ ”

 

It was thin humor, but it helped.  They were all tired, and there was much to do.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

High noon on Sunday found Neville Longbottom in an unusual situation for him: he was surrounded by pretty girls.  The situation was becoming more and more common over the course of his fourth year at Hogwarts, something which usually would have engendered both great apprehension and great excitement in the Gryffindor.  On this particular day, Neville was not worried at all about the girls in his company; he was worried about his friend Harry Potter, and was endeavoring to distract himself with some spellwork.  

 

“ _Depulso_!  _Depulso_!  _Depulso_!”   Three iron balls flew across the Room of Requirement and directly into the center of the conjured targets at its far end.  Neville did not even change his expression as the spells went off perfectly.  His eyes focused on the targets in the distance, he called out, “ _Accio_!  _Arresto Momentum_!  _Accio_!  _Arresto Momentum_!  _Accio_!  _Arresto Momentum_!”  

 

When all three of the heavy spheres were again resting at his feet, the young wizard took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath.  Only a few seconds had gone by.  Fleur and Hermione had already been gone for hours, and no word yet.  More practice was in order, it seemed, to pass the time.  

 

Unbeknownst to Neville, his careful, deliberate spellcasting had drawn an intensely interested audience.  Daphne Greengrass, Luna Lovegood, and Ginny Weasley were all sitting at a conjured table together, but all conversation had trailed off in favor of observing the dark-haired wizard.  After a few minutes of blatant staring, Daphne cleared her throat and glanced at the other two girls.  

 

Ginny was following the projectiles with wide eyes, clearly hoping to demonstrate similar mastery herself, while Luna seemed content to stare directly at the wizard with a calm smile on her face.  

 

Daphne’s mouth twisted in a half-frown, half-grin.  She was still not sure whether she should try to compete with the younger girl for Longbottom’s interest, but there were definitely times when it seemed like she ought to.  Like now, for instance.  

 

It was clear that the young man’s close association with Harry Potter was working greatly to his benefit.  Neville was much more confident in his bearing and his spellcasting than he had ever been, and Daphne was not alone in noticing.  Lovegood, however, seemed to have her hooks in the boy, and the Slytherin in her had to admit that he did not seem inclined to budge.  

 

With Harry Potter totally off the market, things in Hogwarts were changing rapidly, and it wasn’t just the boys.  Hermione and Fleur had been getting some very long looks from the other students; the pair’s casual affection for one another and for Harry was rather alluring in its maturity.  One could hardly be a fawning fourteen or fifteen with that sort walking around for comparison.  This most recent business was going to shake things up even further.  

 

The spell crafting and reasoning that Hermione and Fleur had demonstrated was really astonishing.  Both girls were really too busy and apprehensive to think it over, but Daphne could see the signs in their professors.  McGonagall had been flabbergasted by the work they had done, and Daphne had overheard Professors Flitwick and Vector already discussing publication of the two girls’ spells and theoretical arithmantic applications once the business with Potter was settled.  

 

It was as though they could see past the current dilemma easily, like Harry Potter was as good as rescued.  That was entirely due to Fleur and Hermione’s devotion and confidence.  It was infectious.  Daphne felt it herself, the pull to follow the leaders; clearly Neville was feeling the same way.  

 

If Harry Potter escaped, if he could evade this most recent attempt on his life, he could well find himself and his two wives inspiring their whole generation.  Daphne Greengrass was not about to let the opportunity to be in such exalted company pass her by.  

 

If the Boy-Who-Lived managed to survive, that is.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

Hermione felt the ground slam into her feet as her stomach twisted again.  Shaking her head, she waited for the spells to update with their most recent surroundings on her HUD.  

 

“ _The very first thing I want to do when this is all over is figure out a way to teleport that does not make me feel sick._ ”

 

Fleur’s amusement came over the bond.  “ _Eet is not so bad when you are not being side-along apparated, love._ ”

 

Hermione merely grumbled in reply, then watched as the spells fed new information in.  “ _Harry, and changes on your end?  Are you all right?_ ” She asked anxiously.  

 

“ _Tired.  Just tired.  And no, same readings as before._ ”  

 

Harry Potter was tired.  It was nearing five in the afternoon (which he now knew precisely thanks to Hermione’s HUD spellwork) and although the girls were closing in, it was a slow process.  In addition, there was still the matter of the _fidelius_ to deal with once they were in range.  

 

He sighed and tried not to move.  The ropes had already scored his wrists and ankles enough as it was.  

 

It had taken most of the entire night for him to manage the spellwork Fleur and Hermione had created.  A part of him had been terrified that he would be unable to replicate the results without his wand; in fact, it had led to him finally passing out from exhaustion shortly after midnight.  Happily, they had made clear progress once he had gotten the spells under control.  

 

He was just very tired, and on edge.  The stillness of the empty cellar gnawed on him after these days, and occasional visits by a hateful Wormtail did not improve the situation.  

 

Also, he knew things were coming rapidly to a conclusion.  Whatever ritual Voldemort was going to perform, it was going to be very soon.  The girls would have narrowed down his location in the next half-hour or so, he expected.  

 

“ _It won’t be long now._ ”

 

“ _Don’t worry, Harry.  It will be all right, ok?_ ”  Hermione tried not to sound worried, but he felt her deep anxiety over the bond.  

 

“ _We are very close, love.  Do not lose heart._ ”  Fleur too sounded afraid.  They both sounded exhausted, that period when too little sleep and too much adrenaline made one frenetic and twitchy.  

 

Harry tried to pull himself together and was about to offer some reassurance when he heard the creak of the cellar door opening.  

 

“ _He’s here.  Pettigrew’s here._ ”

 

“Well Harry, looks like it’s about time to get started.  _Petrificus totalus_.  _Locomotor_.”  Bound and frozen, Harry’s form followed Pettigrew’s wand up the stairs.  “The Dark Lord is waiting.  Best not keep him.”

 

HPHPHPHP

 

“I don’t think we’re going to get any closer, Mrs. Potter,” Kingsley Shacklebolt advised soberly.  “The place under _fidelius_ must be around here, but we aren’t going to be able to break it.  I’ve sent a missive to Madam Bones.”

 

Hermione bit her lip.  The auror’s assessment was probably entirely accurate.  Fleur was less than a hundred meters away.  They’d narrowed down the location from practically anywhere in Britain to this one isolated area of Northern Wales, but it still wasn’t good enough.  Harry was still in danger.  Wormtail was bringing him up to see Voldemort even now.  

 

“ _Darling, try not to panic.  We need to pay attention.  ‘Arry is being moved, so he may have a chance to escape.  If he does manage to get out of these wards, the faster we spot him the safer he will be._ ”

 

The brunette witch took a deep breath.  “ _OK.  I’ll tell the aurors to fan out.  Harry?  We’re close.  If you can break away you can cross the ward line pretty quickly; Madam Bones told us that the_ fidelius _can only be effective over a fairly small area._ ”

 

“ _I’ll keep that in mind, Hermione.  Right now it looks like we’re in a courtyard or a garden of some kind, and I can finally see the sky.  Crouch is here._ ”

 

Fleur and Hermione quickly compared the fading sunlight and clouds to their own fields of view.  “ _That’s it!  We must be right next to you Harry!  I can see the same cloud formations and everything._ ”

 

“Auror Shacklebolt, Harry’s been taken outside to an interior courtyard.  From what he can see, it looks like we’re in the right place.”  She looked at the older wizard, not wanting to anger the man.  “I think we should have the other aurors fan out between Fleur and myself.  From where he’s oriented, it looks like this is the best area to wait.”

 

Shacklebolt nodded, then turned to address the others.  Hermione looked away with unfocused eyes, seeing what Harry was seeing.  “ _Harry, Madam Bones is on her way.  Just…_ ”

 

“ _Just wait for a chance, ‘Arry._ ”

 

Through Harry’s eyes they could see the twisted form of a grey infant in Barty Crouch Junior’s arms, its deep red eyes focused on a shallow grave in the earth of the courtyard.  

 

Hermione wrapped her arms around her chest and trembled.  Across the empty expanse of the countryside, behind the treeline, Fleur did the same.  All they could do was wait, now.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

“The hour is struck, Wormtail.  Begin the ritual.”  Voldemort’s sibilant whisper carried through the courtyard and chilled Harry to the bone.  Wormtail left Harry tied to tree as he strode over to Crouch.  

 

“Yes, master.  Crouch, place the master into the grave.  Do not cover him with the earth yet.”  Pettigrew looked carefully over the proscribed area, checking for any imperfection in the rune-inscribed bones already cornering the grave.  

 

Nagini hissed as Crouch placed the infant form into the grave and stepped back with wide eyes.  

 

“Ready the bag of earth, Crouch.”  With only a flicker of unease, he drew a blade from a sheath at his side, then knelt to pour liquid over it from a small bottle.  

 

Harry watched with forced calm, trying not to drive Fleur and Hermione mad with the fear he felt.  Seeing Wormtail ready the blade, he called out.  

 

“Wormtail!  Don’t do this!  You don’t have to be his creature!  You can--”

 

“Silence you little bastard!  I’ll cut your tongue right out of your--”  Crouch stepped forward with a snarl but was arrested by Pettigrew.  

 

“Shut up, both of you.”  The traitor of the Marauders turned and walked calmly over to Harry, his voice even.  The damp blade of the knife in his left hand caught the light of the waning sun.  He smiled softly.  “Harry Potter, do you think I follow Lord Voldemort out of fear?  You’re such a stupid child.  I took his mark freely.  I sought him out.  I followed him for the same reason I once followed your father.”  

 

Wormtail was standing over him now.  

 

“Your father was the most influential wizard of his generation, or at least he might have been.  But Voldemort was more, and I knew that by going to him I would benefit from it.  But that’s all ancient history now.  All that matters is that you’ll be dead and the Dark Lord will be alive, Potter.”  

 

With that, he cut a deep gash in Harry’s left forearm, carefully collecting the spilled blood in a small wooden bowl.  He did not speak as he turned away.  Near the grave, Crouch was silent.  

 

Harry felt his head getting very light as Wormtail walked over to the grave.  He heard words, a chant of some kind, and blood, but it all seemed very far away.  Even Hermione and Fleur’s voices seemed distant.  

 

“ _Maybe he hit a bigger artery than he meant to.  I feel cold._ ”

 

“ _Harry!  Harry, don’t pass out!  You have to stay awake!_ ”

 

“ _We’re here, ‘Arry!  Focus on us, stay awake!_ ”

 

With a great deal of effort, Harry lifted his head and tried to focus.  Near the grave, Wormtail was holding his arm tightly against his body, a pained expression on his face.  Near him, Crouch stood with a fearful gaze fixed on the grave, and empty bag in one hand.  

 

A minute ticked by, then another.  Harry was still cold, but he was struck by the fact that the wind seemed to have died away completely.  

 

Then Nagini hissed, and a grey, clawlike hand appeared from out of the shallow grave.  

 

Voldemort stood.  He hardly looked human.  

 

“My wand.”  The voice was toneless and ugly.  Harry grimaced.  

 

Crouch handed over the wand to its owner with a simper.  “Master…”

 

“Robe.”  

 

Again, the command was obeyed without hesitation by Crouch.  Voldemort turned to Wormtail, who had remained silent with gritted teeth.  “Rise, Peter.  Show me your arm.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened as he saw the exposed wound.  Pettigrew must have cut through the middle of his forearm for whatever the ritual had required.  

 

“You’ve done well, Peter.  Here.”  Voldemort delivered a complicated series of wand motions, and a silver hand grew on the traitor’s arm to replace his sacrifice.  

 

“Thank you, master,” Pettigrew offered with a bow.  “What would you have me do?”

 

“Your mark, Peter.”

 

Pettigrew hissed in pain as Voldemort pressed his wand into the mark.  “Well Harry,” Voldemort said, “We’ll have company in a moment.  Until then, why don’t you enjoy your last few moments.”  He smiled thinly.  “Barty, do you have his wand?”

 

“Yes, my lord,” the man scurried to hand it over.  

 

As Voldemort examined the holly wand, robed figures appeared one by one around the courtyard, each respectfully silent.  The dark lord waited before acknowledging them.  None would dare to question him, not after they had felt the call from the dark mark.  Those who had answered were those most faithful or afraid; those who had not had forfeited their lives.

 

Finally Voldemort broke the silence.  “It has been a long time since I have seen you, my friends.  Thirteen years.  Quick to say, but not quite so quick to pass.  Not so quick to live through.  Not when one waits for the faithful to return to the fold.”  

 

His narrow eyes passed over the crowd and he sneered.  “How many of you have turned against me?  How many now believe the words of those who would destroy us?”  

 

Harry could feel the anger in Voldemort’s magic as he spoke.  

 

“How many of you _cowered_ and _simpered_ and lived your sad little lives while I was gone?  _How many_?”  As some in the crowd began to cry out, Voldemort silenced them with a gesture.  “Barty Crouch here was faithful, and came to my side as soon as he escaped Azkaban.  Wormtail came to me and served me.  What of the rest of you?  MacNair?  Serving those fools in the ministry all these years?”

 

“My lord, no, I, I...” a large Death Eater stepped forward only to fall to his knees.  

 

“ _Crucio_.”  

 

MacNair’s screams tore away the haze of blood loss from Harry’s mind, and a stab of real terror hit him.  “ _He’s here.  The Death Eaters are here.  He’s torturing them, then he’s going to kill me while they watch._ ”  

 

It was almost overwhelming enough to make him laugh.  

 

“Pitiful.  What about you, Malfoy?  No excuses can make up for your failure to find me.  What will you say to defend yourself?”  

 

Rather than listen to Malfoy’s stammering reply, Harry instead tried to focus on the words of his two wives over the bond.  

 

They could offer little reassurance.  

 

Eventually they fell silent, and Harry could sense them watching the scene through his eyes.  

 

Four of the Death Eaters were on the ground suffering the after effects of the cruciatus curse.  Wormtail and Crouch were looking on with undisguised glee.  Voldemort halted his torment for a moment and turned to his left, abruptly noticing Harry still tied in place.  

 

He smiled.  “Well, Harry Potter.  Now that my followers are all here, perhaps they would enjoy watching your end.”  He gestured and the ropes and binding curses fell away from Harry.  The young wizard stood and rubbed at his wrists.  

 

“You’ll need this, of course,” he said, obviously amused, as he threw the holly and phoenix feather wand at Harry’s feet.  “You do know how to duel, don’t you, Potter?  We can be civilized about this, after all.”  

 

Harry felt his scar hurting, and he was not sure whether it was his imagination or not.  The weekend of isolation, the hours of spellwork, the anguished thoughts of Fleur and Hermione all threatened to overwhelm him.  

 

Then he bent to pick up his wand, and cleared his mind for a moment.  

 

“ _I’m going to try to make the best of this.  If I can, I’ll run.  If I can kill some of them, I will._ ”

 

“ _Be careful, Harry.  Please.  Fleur and I should both be roughly in an arc with the aurors outside the property behind you._ ”

 

“ _We love you, ‘Arry.  Do what you ‘ave to do, love._ ”

 

With that, both girls were silent.  

 

Wand in hand, Harry looked up and met Lord Voldemort’s gaze.  “I’m ready, Tom.  Are you?  _Lacero_!”  

 

Not waiting a moment, Harry threw another hex as well and ducked to the right.  No return spells came however; Voldemort simply absorbed both hexes into a silently conjured shield.  Then he started laughing.  

 

“Really, Harry?  Is that all you’ve got?  That’s all Dumbledore’s taught you?  This is hardly even a show for my allies here,” he gestured to the attentive crowd of Death Eaters.  

 

While he was speaking, Harry caught a flicker of motion off to Voldemort’s right, away from the other witches and wizards.  In a moment, he raised his wand again.  

 

“ _Lacero_!  _Reducto_!”

 

Voldemort idly conjured his shield, blocking the first hex, and was about to make another remark about Potter’s poor aim when he felt a moment of sheer horror.  

 

Off to his side, Nagini exploded into a bloody mist, and a horrifying shriek echoed through the courtyard.  Voldemort fell to his knees in pain, and much to his surprise, so did Harry Potter.  

 

Through the awful agony Harry heard Hermione and Fleur telling him to get up and run while he had a chance, telling him that Madam Bones and the aurors and Dumbledore were waiting to help him.  He staggered drunkenly to his feet; the scar felt like it was branding itself into his skull.  

 

“ _Potter!_ You _swine_!  Do you have any idea what you have _done_!”  If the Dark Lord had been irritated before, he was livid now.  The Death Eaters as one fell back, unwilling even to speak in the face of his fury.  “This ends now.  Goodbye, Harry Potter.”  

 

With an expression of total hatred on his reptilian features, Voldemort called out, “ _Avada Kedavra_!”  

 

Harry saw it speeding toward him, but he was too tired, and too slow.  The curse struck him on the shoulder and the Boy-Who-Lived fell to the ground, limp, deaf to the crying voices of the two young women who loved him.  

 

Across the courtyard, much to the complete shock of the Death Eaters, the thing that had been Tom Riddle fell to the ground along with his foe.  

 

HPHPHPHP

 

Harry felt two things very keenly upon waking up: he was no longer in pain, and he could no longer hear Fleur and Hermione.  He panicked for a moment before he fell off of the couch he was on.  The floor was hardwood with a simple rug.  It was pleasant and cool in the room, a summer evening with a window open to let in the air.  

 

“ _Hermione?  Fleur?_ ”

 

No answer.  Harry picked himself up, noticing that he was in clean Hogwarts robes.  He looked around.  

 

The couch he had fallen off of looked to be an antique, and well worn.  The rest of the room seemed to match the same decor, a sort of understated wealth, the sort that comes from a family whose antiques are their own from centuries past, of no more account to them than the horses in their stables.  It was a house for a noble, Harry thought.  

 

He was alone in the room, but as soon as he established that fact a door opened and two people walked in.  They were both young, only a little older than Harry was himself, like university students.  The man had unkempt dark hair, a sharp contrast to the straight red hair that framed the face of the woman.  

 

Both of them were looking at Harry with a very strange expression, one that Harry had seen but rarely in his life.  They looked on him with affection.  

 

“Who… who are you?”  He asked after a little hesitation.  

 

The two glanced at each other, then looked back at him.  The man spoke first.  

 

“Harry… I am your father!”  The goofy deep voice, obviously a farce, took Harry totally by surprise.  He looked on in complete astonishment as the woman turned and punched the man in the shoulder.  

 

“Honestly, James.  You never, ever change.”  Harry noted that the woman did not seem angry, just amused.  Her sharp punch to the shoulder had been a warning, but clearly a joking one. She turned to look at him.  “Harry, we are your parents.  I’m Lily Potter; this fool is your father, James.  It’s good to finally get to talk to you.”  

 

Harry blinked, then blinked again.  He heard the words echo in his mind: _father_ , _parents_ , _James_ , _Lily_.  He stumbled, then fell back onto the sofa.  “Mum?  Dad?  Really?”

 

His father’s expression softened, the earlier humor replaced with love.  “Yes Harry, it’s us.  Lily’s right, it’s great to talk to you, but I wish it were under better circumstances.”

 

Harry was speechless as they moved to sit beside him, and then reached out for a hug.  He felt the tears coming as he shook in their arms, and broke down sobbing a moment later.  This was the Mirror of Erised made a thousand times better.  

 

“Harry, I’ve missed you.  I love you so much.”   Lily smiled and kissed his head.

 

“We both do, Harry,” his father echoed.  

 

“I, well, am I dead then?  I remember Riddle hitting me with the killing curse.  Is that it then?  Is that why I can’t hear Hermione or Fleur?”  Harry leaned back a bit and asked with trepidation.

 

“Not exactly, darling.  This is something of a crossroads.  You’re here because Tom Riddle did something very foolish.”

 

“When you struck out at his snake, Nagini, with that _reductor_ curse - brilliant form by the way - did you notice anything strange about what happened, Harry?”  James asked.   

 

“Well,” he began carefully, “There was a horrible scream, then I felt my scar burning.  I think Voldemort felt it too.”

 

“He did, Harry,” Lily said.  “He felt it awfully.  Can you guess why?”  James smiled at his wife’s question; even in death, she remained something of a teacher.  

 

“If it was his familiar, if it had a connection with him, and my scar is a connection too, maybe that is what shared the pain with us?”  Harry replied with some hesitation.  It seemed to fit the facts, but he had never heard of anything quite so awful happening with the death of a familiar.  

 

“Close, Harry, very close indeed.”  Lily nodded approvingly and stroked his hair.  “There’s some information you are missing, though, that should make things more clear.  Something Albus Dumbledore has been hiding from you.”

 

He felt a bit of dread.  “What is it?”

 

“You know Riddle wanted to be immortal; to do that, he made repositories, anchors really, for his soul.  They’re phylacteries, or as most in the wizarding world name them, horcruxes.  Every one of them has a little piece of Riddle’s soul, and unless they are all destroyed, his formless spirit can incarnate in a new body.”  Lily looked at him very seriously.  “Nagini was a living horcrux, Harry.  The snake’s destruction caused him terrible agony.”

 

“And me?  Why did it hurt me too?”  Harry asked.

 

“What do you think, son?”  James asked gently.  

 

“My scar.  My bloody scar.  It was a part of him, wasn’t it?”  Harry said, appalled. 

 

Both his parents nodded sadly.  “It was indeed.  He has others out there too, and Albus may well know where some of them are.  But there is some good news, Harry.”  Lily smiled brilliantly, and Harry felt a little better.  “Your scar is just that now, a scar.  It will never heal, but the horcrux has been destroyed.”

 

Harry’s eyes widened in realization.  “Riddle did it himself?  He destroyed it himself when he tried to kill me?”

 

“That’s right son.  And now you’re here, in between worlds, as a result.  You will wake up soon, free from the horcrux, but you’ll need to move fast.  Riddle is gravely hurt after both those horcruxes have been killed so quickly.”

 

Harry nodded.  

 

“We only have a few minutes Harry.  When you escape, find my journal in the family vault in Gringott’s.  You won’t be able to read it at first; you’ll need to listen to Tom Sawyer.  You’ll find out what your father and I were doing.”  Lily said in a rush.  

 

“We love you, Harry.  Keep those witches by your side; Fleur and Hermione both seem wonderful.”  James said fondly.  

 

“Be happy, Harry.  I don’t need to tell you to be brave, or strong, because you’ve already got strength and bravery in spades.  Love those two girls.  Love yourself.  And never forget that your mother and father love you very, very much.”  Tears fell from Lily’s green eyes as she held her son fiercely.  

 

“I love you mum, dad.”  Harry said with tears of his own.  “I won’t let you down.  I won’t forget you.”  

 

He pulled back and saw James and Lily smiling and crying.  They faded out before his eyes, and then the darkening courtyard faded in around him.  

 

“ _Harry!  Harry Potter!  Please say you’re all right!_ ”

 

“ _‘Arry my love, say something!  Please!  ‘Arry!_ ”

 

The desperate voices of his wives echoed through Harry’s mind.  Hearing them again felt like opening his eyes for the first time.  He wasted not a moment however as he clenched his wand in his right hand and tensed his muscles.  

 

“ _I’m here, I’m all right.  I’m about to run for it.  Get ready._ ”

 

Hoping he had not been too terse, Harry readied himself, hearing the nervous voices of the Death Eaters.  Judging by the sound, they were standing around Voldemort’s fallen body.  He knew he only had a few moments.  

 

Harry did not know how to apparate.  Harry had no portkey, and no way to make one.  Dobby could not come to him.  No phoenix appeared to flame him away.   But that was all right.  Harry Potter had been running from trouble his whole life before he knew anything about magic.  

 

The Boy-Who-Lived sprang softly to his feet, ignored the terrible pain in his left arm and the dizziness from loss of blood, turned his back on Voldemort and the crowd of Death Eaters, and ran.  

 

He sprinted toward the wall of the courtyard.  It was scarcely fifteen meters away.  It was Harry Hunting all over again, but this time the pursuers had killing curses and disemboweling hexes.  

 

So he ran, faster than he had ever run before.  He hardly even heard the shout of a lone Death Eater as he neared the wall.  Five meters now.  

 

“ _Reducto!_ ”

 

A six-meter section of the wall exploded into powder.  Harry never broke his stride.  

 

Ten meters past the wall now.  He could hear Hermione and Fleur screaming at him to run.  

 

He could hear them.  Not in his mind.  He focused.  

 

There they were.  Hermione and Fleur behind a wall of aurors, Madam Bones, Charles Delacour, and Dumbledore.  The wall of witches and wizards threw curses at the pursuers he dared not turn to look at.  He heard a few screams, then silence as he ran straight through them and into the arms of the witches who had been waiting for him all this time.  Behind him, the aurors closed ranks.  A few more spells flew, and then all was quiet except for Harry Potter, gasping for breath in the arms of his two sobbing wives.  

 

“Mr Potter, we are leaving.  Now.”  

 

He felt a hand on his arm, and then a terrible twisting sensation, and then Harry was in Albus Dumbledore’s office with Hermione and Fleur in his arms.  He panted a moment, then leaned in for a long kiss with both girls.  

 

Then he started laughing, thinking of Wormtail and Crouch and Malfoy and Riddle all standing around screaming while his mother and father cheered him into the arms of the girls that loved him.  

 

He finally calmed down a moment later to see concerned expressions on the faces of both girls.  “Don’t worry, really.  I’ve just got quite a lot to tell you both.  Have I mentioned that you’re amazing, and that I love you?”  Harry smiled, and his feelings of relief and joy flowed out to both girls.  “God, I missed you both.”  

 

 

 


End file.
